The Kiss of the Moon
by SeventhLegend
Summary: Plunged into a hostile world far from the Migrant Fleet, an unlikely group must find a way to band together and survive or die at the hands of an unseen evil. Kal'Reegar soon finds that nothing could have prepared him for this.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to The Kiss of the Moon, our next journey into the world of Mass Effect. This is not a sequel to Sparks; it may be in the same world, but it's not about Legion or Shepard. This is a story about Kal'Reegar, our favorite quarian soldier. It's going to be a little more gritty than Sparks, because I find Kal to be a more gritty, down-to-earth character. And yes, I did write "supernatural" for the genre... You'll just have to wait and see. Also, there will be romance. Of course.**

** I'm still working on Sparks at the time of this writing, and that means that regular updates on this story won't commence for a while still. So, consider this a preview of what is to come.**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **All characters, for better or for worse, belong to Bioware.

.

.

.

.

**The Kiss of the Moon**

**Chapter One**

Kal'reegar shakes out his silvery shoulder-length hair and lets loose a sigh of gratification. The glass embrace of his helmet is protection, shielding him from the millions of deadly contagions of the outside world, but at times it becomes claustrophobic and oppressive. The manufactured sterility of the ship's clean room is a blessing at times like this. An artificial comfort.

Kal rolls his head around, reveling in the freedom of movement. He massages his shoulders and sighs again, closing his eyes. The ship he's on now, the Ierra, is a small frigate, tiny by Migrant Fleet standards. Two weeks ago a ship went dark in this sector while hunting for resources. Suspecting pirate activity, the admiralty sent a group of marines to investigate.

_Search and destroy._ Kal's lips twist into a smile. Perfect.

Then, just at the edge of his perception, something flickers. It's the smallest nudge, an almost nonexistent prickle at the back of his neck, but Kal's been on enough battle fields to know it for what it is. To ignore your instincts is to pass up a chance at survival. He pretends not to notice the feeling, picking up his helmet with calculated carelessness and reattaching the seals. The prickle intensifies, and now Kal can almost feel the outline of the body behind him. He presses in his visor, the pressure locks closing with a slight hiss. A boot scrapes on the metal floor.

Kal doesn't go for his gun. Instead he spins around, and as the helmeted figure behind him yelps in surprise, Kal chops him across the throat with the edge of his hand. His would-be attacker, a human, stumbles back, clutching his throat. Kal bends fluidly and sidekicks him in the chest. The human falls awkwardly to the deck, the knife in his hand dropping with a clatter. _Going in for a stealth kill,_ thinks Kal as he jumps forward, mounting the human's chest. He takes a firm hold in the human's helmet, ignoring the flailing arms, and gives it a savage twist. The human's neck cracks audibly, and his arms drop to his sides.

_Stupid. Had me in his sights, shoulda' just shot me. _Kal stands up, picking up his assailant's weapon and twirling it between his fingers. _Tryin' to get bragging rights, a little Quarian blood on his blade. Like this is some kind of game. Stupid. _He looks up from the blade, gripping the hilt firmly. _How'd he get in here, anyway?_ The answer stares him straight in the face. The clean room door is wide open, giving a clear view to the corridor outside. Kal frowns. _Even if he hacked the lock, the decontamination cycle... Unless..._

Kal stands still for a moment. Then he swears under his breath and dashes out of the room, leaving the dead human on the deck behind him.

…

Kal runs through the halls of the ship, making his way to the bridge. Booms echo through the ship, like thunder drumming on the walls. He passes doorway after doorway, open with the locks deactivated. The ship shakes, but no alarms sound. _Shit!_ He runs on, sliding to a stop outside the portal to the bridge. The door is retracted, but the passageway has been jammed full of various flotsam, forming a rudimentary barricade. Kal tries to peer over the top, but his view is blocked by a supply crate. "Hey!" he yells. "Anybody back there?"

"Kal!" A male voice comes from the other side, higher pitched and more heavily accented than his own. "Is that you?"

"Breil? The hell is going on here?"

"Quiet, quiet!" says the voice hurriedly. A chair moves aside, and a pale visor appears in the gap. The Quarian reaches an arm through the barricade to Kal. "Come on, quickly! It's not safe out there!"

"No shit," mutters Kal. He accepts the proffered appendage, pulling himself through the gap in the barricade. Crates slide under his feet, bouncing loudly on the deck, but he manages to land on his feet. Kal looks around the bridge. Five Quarians stand around him, weapons drawn, in various states of alarm. The control banks are dark, haptic interfaces deactivated. Suddenly something shifts in the bridge's viewport, and Kal realizes what he's seeing. The stars are blotted out by the tail end of a ship, enormous and incredibly close. As he watches blue lights flicker, thrusters turning the ship's bulk slightly. The bridge's deck shakes as the thunder sounds again. The face of the pirate ship lights up briefly.

Kal rounds on Briel. "Mind telling me what's going on here?"

The other Quarian backs away slightly. "Uh, it's a—an attack! Pirates-"

"I can see that!" Kal growls. "What's with our systems? Are we flying dark here?"

"N—no! They hit us, gauss or ion cannon or something! Life support is still functional on emergency power, but it's going fast!"

"Weapons systems?"

"What do you think?" asks Briel, rallying. He shrinks back under Kal's glare. "We, ah, barricaded the bridge, and sent a distress signal, because the beacon's still working, ah..."

Kal turns away, spinning his knife again. Briel watches the blade, entranced. "So we're just gonna sit here until help arrives," says Kal without turning. "You think we're gonna survive until then? And what about everyone else? There are twelve marines on this ship. I'm not sitting comfy up here while they could be dying!"

"Kal'reegar, I am, in fact, the commanding officer here," says Briel. "Therefor, despite what you seem to think, I am in charge."

Kal shakes his head, striding to the doorway on the other side of the bridge. "You can do what you like. I'm saving our men." He kicks at the barricade, sending furniture and boxes tumbling. "Come with me if you want, but I'm going."

With a glance at Briel, the two marines set off after Kal.

"Kal! _Kal!"_ Briel looks around the bridge in desperation. He is alone, except for the unarmed pilot. Briel gestures helplessly at him. "You stay here. Do... I don't know, do something!" With that, he rushes away after the marines.

…

The second hallway leading off of the bridge is lined with windows, ultra-thick multi-layered glass showing a panoramic view of the void. The view is dominated by the hulking pirate vessel. From what Kal can see, it's a modified cargo ship, bristling with tacked-on cannons and shield relays.

The group unconsciously slows as they pass the viewports, staring at the monstrous craft.

One of the marines gives a low whistle. "She's an ugly motherfucker, ain't she?"

Kal nods agreement. He tares his eyes away from the view, focusing on the objective. Kill the pirates. Save the Quarians. Right.

Suddenly a voice bounces down the hallway from the way they came. "Hey!"

Kal looks back in alarm, then narrows his eyes as Briel comes into view around the corner. "I told you..." he warns.

"No, no," says Briel. He slows to a walk, catching his breath. "I'm coming with you."

Kal opens his mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but he's cut off by the sound of gunfire. Without thinking, he shoves Briel down, both of them hitting the deck behind a bulkhead. Kal looks around. The rest of the marines are taking cover too, except one man lying face down in the middle of the hall. Kal peeks over the top of the bulkhead. A human stands there, firing wildly from the hip. Shots ricochet around the confined space, buzzing like deadly hornets. _Idiot! Probably hit him by accident!_ Kal waits for the human to empty his clip. As soon as the shots stop, he darts out from his cover keeping low to the ground. The human is looking down, fumbling with his gun as he reloads. Kal's hand whips out, throwing the knife with deadly accuracy. The blade penetrates the man's suit, sinking into his neck with a meaty _thunk._ Blood sprays from the wound, and the man falls.

Kal reaches the downed Quarian, and hoisting him up by his armpits, drags him back into cover. He lays the injured marine down next to Briel, who looks on silently, hands shaking. Three holes are punched through the man's suit, in a neat diagonal line along his stomach. The fabric is already soaked. The marine moans weakly, tries to speak. Kal shakes his head, triggering an application of medi-gel from his omni tool. If reinforcements get here in time, there's a chance he might live.

Kal stands up. A helmeted head peering around the corner catches sight of him, and quickly pulls back. Kal crouches down again, signaling to the remaining marines. They train their rifles on the door, waiting for a human head to reappear.

Next to him, Briel is still sitting transfixed, staring at the bleeding soldier.

Kal grabs his shoulder roughly. "Hey!"

Briel turns toward him slowly. "Yes?" he says in a far-away voice.

Kal shakes his head in exasperation. "Give me that," he says, taking the pistol out of Briel's unprotesting hands. He checks the clip. At least it's loaded. He turns back to Briel. "Just keep your head down, okay?"

The other Quarian nods, wide-eyed.

Kal motions to the injured marine. "And keep pressure on that wound. We'll head down to pick up the rest of the crew and meet you back up here." He hazards another look around the bulkhead. _Why isn't anyone shooting?_

As if in answer to his question, a volley of bullets flies towards them from down the hallway. The marines duck back under cover, and a human steps out from around the corner. He levels a rifle at the Quarians. Things happen fast.

There's a flash of light and a deafening thunderclap. Kal feels his feet being dragged away from him, reaches out a hand in a desperate attempt to grab onto something, anything, and then his boots leave the deck and he's tumbling up and away. A chilling, sucking cold envelopes him, sound bleeding away into the black. He spins, without control, and catches sight of the shattered viewport in the center of a giant scorch mark on the ship's surface. He reaches for it, almost out of reflex, and then a steel panel slams down over the glass and he spins away.

The world is silent except for the _whoosh_ of Kal's own breathing in his ears. _In. Out._ He blinks. Lights sparkle. A flash of green. A gout of fire from a ship's hull. Debris spiraling off into nowhere. _Not _a_ ship, _my_ ship! _Kal tries to turn his head, but he's powerless against his own inertia. _Think, dammit! Think or you're dead. _He tries to remember the number. It's drilled into all the recruits, the worst-case scenario for a marine._ Thirty seconds. You get thirty seconds of air. How much is left?_

The hull of the Ierra passes out of his slowly revolving view, replaced with the dull brown expanse of the pirate vessel. And between them, growing nearer, the boarding tube extends like an enormous mechanical phallus, violating the smaller ship.

Kal tries to move again, but his arms flail without traction. _I'm going in about the right direction. As long as the air holds out..._ Kal's spin takes him around to face the tube again. _Gotta be forty meters. Come on..._

He takes in a deep breath, forcing as much oxygen as he can into his lungs. _Thirty meters. Twenty five._ Kal suddenly remembers the pistol in his hand. He aims approximately, squeezes the trigger twice. The gun kicks against his palm, and he feels the added thrust pushing him faster towards the tube. He fires again, spinning wildly, and as the tube comes around again Kal grabs a fold of the vacuum-sealed lining and empties the rest of the clip into the fabric. It tears, hissing air, and Kal lets go of the pistol and pulls himself inside.

His pulse pounding like artillery fire in his ears, lungs screaming for air, Kal climbs hand over hand down the empty tunnel. The edges of his vision dim, focusing on the glowing green square at the end of the corridor. Kal forces his lips together, ignoring his pleading lungs. The door floats closer in his vision, impossibly slowly. The light seems to bleed out of the corridor, an eternity between the last handhold and the surface of the door. Finally it's within reach, and Kal brushes his omni-tool against the lock, and hauls himself into the airlock with the last of his strength.

The floor lurches sickeningly as the ship's artificial gravity takes hold of him. Kal looses his feet. The deck presses against his side and he clamps his knees against his chest, all the will he possesses desperately keeping in the breath, even as the darkness fades across his eyes.

And then the hiss of the cabin's vents subsides. Kal lets go, gasping, and as his lungs gorge themselves the world springs back into vivid detail around him. He closes his eyes, making himself take in measured breaths through his nose, letting them out slowly from his mouth. _Praise Keelah it wasn't locked. It could have been—no. Don't think about that._

Kal's heart begins to slow down. He pushes himself up. _Save the Ierra. Right. One thing at a time. _He looks around. A single door is set in the opposite wall, its access panel a cheerful green.

_No time to plan. Just go._ Kal strides to the door and swipes it open with his omni-tool. The door pulls back into its frame with a _swish. _Beyond it lies a landing and a set of stairs, and on the landing a startled Human pirate, clearly not expecting company.

Kal steps forward without giving the man time to think and kicks him hard, his armored shin connecting with the human's not-so-armored groin. The man drops almost comically, straight down to the deck. Kal pins his head with his boot, snatching up the man's rifle. The pirate doesn't even struggle as Kal sights quickly and fires twice. The kick hits his shoulder hard, along with the gun's echoing blast and the crunch of shattered armor. Kal kicks the corpse away and jogs up the stairs. _Get into the bridge. If this is was cargo ship once, then all the important stuff'l be clustered up at the front. It won't take long._

The stairs end in another portal, also unlocked. _Must be my lucky day,_ thinks Kal wryly. He opens the door. _Shit!_

It's not the bridge. The hallway ends abruptly, turning into a vertical shaft with a ladder running up it.

Kal turns away, cursing the wasted time. _There must have been another door. _Then he stops, hand halfway to the door. _Wait... _Kal turns back to the ladder, practicably leaping up the rungs. The top of the ladder is ringed by a ledge, and Kal sees exactly what he's looking for.

A clear dome covers the tiny room, which is filled by an empty seat and set of controls. _A gunnery turret!_ Kal drops the pirate's rifle and slips into the chair. The console is simple, a yoke and a set of triggers. Kal wraps his three-fingered hands around the control sticks, craning his neck back. The glass, fortified with strips of steel, shows two canons thrusting out side by side from the ship below him. He tilts the yoke and feels the turret turn, and then he almost gasps as the Ierra comes into view. Fires burn sporadicly on its hull, feeding on internal gases, flames licking at the void. Large sections of her hull are burnt, marking heavy blast points. As he watches, the viewport flashes and another shot crashes silently into her wounded body. Kal bares his teeth, fingers tightening on the trigger. _Hang in there. I'm working on it!_

He gives the yoke another experimental jerk, and the turret swivels again. The side of the pirate cruiser's hull stretches before him, dotted with canon banks. These ones are automatic, without pilots in them. _The actual ship doesn't go too far back. Most of that is cargo hold._ Kal thinks for a second, then smiles. _And engines. And reactor core! _He squeezes the triggers, one cannon flashing and pulling back under its recoil, then the other. The canons along the hull burst like grenades, debris spiraling away from the ship. He looks for more targets, but the range of movement on the turret is too small.

Kal feels a sudden urge, the battle-lust, stealing over him. It rolls in like a fog from the back of his mind, covering up everything he doesn't need. Reason and self-preservation become muted, far away, and his grin stretches wider as he pulls the canon barrels down as far as they will go, aiming at the hull of the ship. His mind watches without any chance of stopping him as his body pulls the triggers, fingers clamping down and pressing them into their frames. The canons shudder, spouting yellow light, and the hull a hundred meters away sprays fire and sparks. Metal fragments fly, the armor plating cracking and buckling under the pounding of the guns. Kal swivels the turret slowly, carving a burning canyon across the ship.

The guns fire again and again, and with each shot the gouge grows deeper. Metal beams and support struts snap out like broken bones, gas erupting in pillars of rosy fire, and the entire ship shudders. An alarm starts wailing somewhere, but Kal barely hears it. His senses are far away, his every faculty focused on doing as much destruction as possible. He loses track of time, the blasts of the guns blending together, glass of the viewport painted with a scene of silent carnage.

The ship lurches suddenly, throwing Kal out of his seat. He hits the deck on his elbows, rolling up against the wall as the ground tilts. A terrible noise crash pounds in his ears, metal screams in agony, and then a colossal _boom_ hurls him onto his back. Kal pulls himself to his feet, clinging onto the back of the chair, and stares out the viewport.

A massive wall of torn metal fills the window. Fires burn, and sparking, twisted metal, the ship's bent ribs, jut out at odd angles. Kal realizes the aft end of the ship is breaking away. It hangs on against the force of the engines, mass effect fields trying desperately to compensate. Klaxons blare, adding to the din, and Kal hears shouts from below. He pulls away from the view, dropping down the ladder and hitting the bottom heavily. He staggers, steadies himself on the wall. The door opens, and a human stares at him from the other side. The noise of sirens doubles, and Kal hears more shouting from behind the pirate. He tries to think of something to do or say, and then he and the human are both lifted off their feet. The explosion throws him clear through the door, back into the stairwell. His back hits the wall and his breath leaves him in a _whoosh_, and then suddenly he's floating.

Kal pushes off from the wall, barely registering the loss of gravity as he drifts to the bottom of the stairs. A door opens, and he pushes past the pirate and propels himself off the ceiling and down the hallway. It turns and he moves around the corner, finding himself in a large circular room. The walls are lined with computers, and humans strapped to chairs shout back and forth to each other, not seeming to notice the floating quarian in their midst. Kal looks up to the viewport dominating one side of the room. What he sees takes his breath away.

The massive blue-green face of the planet below looms ahead of them. Clouds swim lazily across its surface, and Kal realizes with a sluggish sort of panic that it's far too close. The ship is no longer in orbit around the planet: It's on a direct collision course. The ship begins to shake violently, untethered objects flying around the cabin. Feathery tongues of flame wrap around the viewscreen, blurring the view and casting the cabin in a deep red light. A body floats by, waving franticly, and the whole room starts to spin. The shaking intensifies, rattling Kal to his bones, and in the midst of the flying chaos something strikes him in the side of the head and in a sudden white flash the world goes dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** And here comes chapter 2, and the regular updates shall commence along with it! Instead of complaining about how much free time I don't have, I'll just say that writing is somewhere below eating and above sleeping in my priorities, so if it takes me a while to update during this month it's not because I've forgotten! And now...

**Chapter 2**

Kal'Reegar shifts in his bunk.

The mattress is harder than usual. His shoulder blade presses uncomfortably against the surface and he turns again. This time the corner of something is digging into his ribs. _What the hell?_

He's also really, really warm. The fabric of his suit is chafing hot, almost irritatingly so. This has got to be the worst bunk he's ever slept in. With a grunt of annoyance, Kal cracks an eye open.

He instantly shuts it again, gritting his teeth as a white-hot spear of pain sears through his eye and into the back of his head where it lodges. His head feels as if it's threatening to split. After a few minutes of recovery he hazards another look, this time giving his eyes time to adjust before opening them all the way. Even then, he barely achieves a squint, and all the while someone is playing an impressive drum solo on the inside of his skull. Kal groans and props himself up on an elbow, shielding his eyes with a forearm.

Bright golden sunlight cascades in through a jagged hole in the window, spilling across his body like ghostly blankets. He looks around and sees that he's not in his bunk after all. The steel deck under him is covered with detritus, a piece of which he rolled over on earlier. Kal'Reegar blinks fuzzily and turns his head to regard the shattered glass above him. Thoughts swim through his head like confused fish. _Someone... How did that get broken? Did I do that? Wait... No, that's not a window. It's..._

Memory slams into him like a physical blow. _Shit! Pirates! Where's—ah, fuck! We... I crashed the ship? _Kal looks around again. The room is all too familiar now; it's the bridge of the humans' ship. Computer stations sizzle quietly. Something drips in the back of the room. Little bits of broken glass sparkle like a miniature star system scattered across the floor. Somewhere, bizarrely, a bird chirps. The sunlight is still too harsh for Kal to be able to see outside properly. He stands up carefully, but not carefully enough. His body wails in protest, ribs and side and legs and arms all complaining at once. Kal grimaces, limping a little as he moves to investigate the rest of the room. _Gonna have some interesting bruises in the morning._

Everything breakable has been broken. A few things that were probably meant to be unbreakable have as well. The deck is buckled and bent, the walls are scorched, and the ceiling, not wanting to be left out, has acquired a large hole. Tubing hangs through the gap, letting off intermittent showers of sparks. Kal hears the drip again, and for lack of something better to do, he hobbles around the center console to have a look.

The other side of the cockpit has fared no better, with the addition of a wide streak of blood running from the ceiling, down one wall and into a pile of debris in the corner. The red liquid on the ceiling collects lazily into a drop. Kal watches it grow, until gravity wins out over surface tension and the droplet falls to the growing puddle on the deck.

_Plink._

Kal steps around the puddle. The door frame on this side is crumpled, but the door is gone and there's still enough space left for a man to fit through. _Should take stock. Find out who survived, and _what_ survived. Might be a shuttle or something I can salvage._ Kal stops suddenly, halfway through the doorway. He listens carefully, and soon he hears it again; a cough, from behind the pile of debris. Kal straightens up, instantly on guard. His guns are long gone, but he doesn't need them. He inches closer to the fallen metal, warily. "Hello?" he calls gruffly.

The voice coughs again, and then it says: "Shit!"

Kal steps closer, peering over a storage container. "Who's there?"

"The queen of England!"

Kal frowns. "The what?"

"You heard me. That you, Vin? You come up here to loot the bodies? Well I'm not dead just yet. Give me a couple more hours 'till I bleed out."

Kal can feel his temper slipping. "Don't fuck with me!" he yells at the unseen voice. "I'm having a bad fucking day, so don't push your luck! Now you've got one more chance to tell me who the hell you are, or I'm walking away."

"Fine, fine! Just don't leave me to bleed to death, okay?" The voice looses its jovial quality, becoming pained and weary. "The name's James. I'm one of the guys from Omega, came in on the last shuttle, remember? No, you prob'ly don't."

_Must be one of the pirates. My accent's not so thick. He must think I'm one of his crew, _thinks Kal. Aloud, he says, "Any more survivors?"

"How the hell should I know?" retorts James. "When we started to go down I tried to get out of the bridge. Everybody was running around, complete chaos. Then this container came out of fucking nowhere and, well, I'm trapped. Think it broke my leg, damn sure I heard it snap. I'm losing blood, and I'm out of medi-gel too. The pain's starting to come back. I won't be such good conversation in a few minutes." The voice trails off, then adds as an afterthought, "Oh yeah, that quarian bastard that got on here should be around somewhere, too, if he's still alive. You wanna watch your ass. He's a mean sonuvabitch, killed Franco with his own gun. Nasty shit. Hey, who are you, anyway? You're not Vin, I know that."

Kal smiles grimly. "I'm the quarian bastard. Now I'm gonna get you outa there, because I need all the help I can get, but if you try anything, anything at all, I'll break _both_ your legs and leave you to die slowly. Got it?"

From behind the pile of debris James lets out a lengthy string of swearwords. Finally the profanities subside, and Kal hears him sigh heavily. "Shit. Well, it's a better deal then I'd probably get with the other guys, anyway. Alright quarian, get me out of here."

Kal wraps both arms around the storage container, and, ignoring the hiss of pain from James, heaves it off of the human. Kal looks down at the pirate, taking a moment to study his face. Strands of dark hair stick to the man's face, damp with sweat and pale from loss of blood. Brown eyes look up at Kal with a mixture of wry amusement and defeated acceptance. Kal places his age at somewhere between twenty-four and thirty, as best as he can tell with a human.

The man's lower leg is a mess. The cargo pants he's wearing are torn soaked with blood. In the midst of the red mess, Kal sees the white glint of bone. James's mouth presses into a tight line. "It's bad," he says.

Kal nods. "It's bad," he agrees. He kneels and, bringing up his omni-tool, triggers an application of medi-gel into the wound. The clear jelly works its way in, stopping the bleeding almost instantly. James sighs in relief, and he begins to shift the rest of the debris away from him. Kal rises, extending an arm to the pirate. "Can you stand?" he asks.

"Yeah, help me up." The human takes his hand and pulls himself up on his good leg. Gingerly, he tests his weight on his injured limb. The color drains from James's face, and he sits back down abruptly. "Ahh, nope. That would be a definite _no_," he says.

Kal blows out a breath of desperation. Carrying an injured human around isn't in his plan. _Well, it wouldn't be if I _had_ a plan,_ he thinks ruefully. Kal briefly contemplates just killing the man. It would save him a lot of trouble, and he's probably not going to be useful for anything anyway. Then Kal makes the mistake of looking into the man's eyes.

James looks back up at him, but his eyes aren't filled with anger or fear. Kal knows how to deal with those. Instead, all Kal sees is complete and utter acceptance shining back at him. The corner of James's mouth turns up a little, and his voice is full of the dark humor if his predicament. "Helluva situation, huh?" he says. "What are we gonna do?"

That acceptance, and the human's unthinking use of the word _we, _ so willing to entrust his fate to Kal, sweeps away the hard anger inside him. Kal shakes his head in frustration. He can't kill the man, not after he's given himself up like this. _Couldn't he have at least fought, or _done _something, _thinks Kal. _No. Had to make this _complicated.

With a noncommittal grunt, Kal half drags, half helps the human to his feet. When he stumbles, Kal ducks his head under the pirate's arm, and, perhaps a little more roughly than necessarily, wraps his own arm around the man's other shoulder. They take a few hesitant steps, James hobbling alongside Kal, putting most of his weight on the quarian's shoulder.

"You gonna make it like this, human?" asks Kal. _I just know this is going to come back to bite me in the ass later,_ he thinks.

"Yeah. I'll be alright for now. Out that door and down the hall is our way out. If the airlock is still unblocked, I can give you the codes to unlock it."

"What about the rest of your crew? We can't have been the only survivors."

James shakes his head. "The rest of the 'crew' is probably only about six people. I know there was one guy in the aft gun turret, one pilot, and maybe a few in the barracks that were still getting suited up. Oh, and Vin's gotta be here too. I can't imagine a crash killing him."

They negotiate the door and begin a sort of a lame three-legged race down the hallway. "Well," says Kal after some thought. "We don't have to worry about the gunner. We left the aft end of the ship floating in space somewhere. The pilot must have split when we started going down, I don't remember who was in the bridge when I came in."

The hallway ends, and the room beyond has only two exits. James points the airlock out to Kal.

Kal dumps James on the deck and sets off through the other door. The man yells protests after him, but Kal ignores him. Beyond the door are more empty hallways, branching off into rooms filled with smoldering tech and empty bunks. Every corridor is a dead end except one, a wider hall with signs pointing to a central hub. Kal rounds the corner to find instead a collapsed wall and fallen beams blocking the passage.

Satisfied that they're alone, he backtracks to where James sits awkwardly against one wall. As he steps into the chamber the man looks up from the floor, relief showing on his face. "Don't do that again," he says. "Just taking off like that. You had me worried."

Kal snorts. "Did you miss me? Let me tell you something, human. We are not a 'team'. What makes you think I won't just kill after you give me the airlock codes?"

James laughs nervously. "What, kill a helpless prisoner in cold blood? You're a soldier. You wouldn't do that."

Kal looks away, stalking over to the airlock controls. "You obviously don't know me very well, human."

"Besides," James continues, seeming to ignore Kal's last statement. "You need me. I know the crew. If we run into trouble, I can get us out. They'll listen to me. If it was just you, they'd shoot on sight."

"Whatever," says Kal. "Just give me the code."

James reads off the code to Kal, who enters it into the console with his omni-tool. The portal retracts, and Kal drags James into the airlock and enters the code again on the inside. The chamber hisses and sputters as broken systems try to close off the air vents, and then the outside door slides open.

Green. Everything is green, in a sense of the word Kal has never known before. Stringy plant fibers carpet the ground in every direction, and Kal remembers this is _grass._ A bird chirps a long, warbling call and Kal'Reegar looks up and he sees _trees._ Not just one or two like in a garden on the flotilla, but hundreds, thousands of them, swaying gently, their needles rustling in the wind. Sunlight shafts in between their trunks, splashing the forest floor with crimson and gold. Kal can feel the breeze caress his skin through his suit. He closes his eyes, senses overcome with foreign and amazing things. His foot sinks a little into the soft ground, the grass springing back up again as he takes another step. Everything around him is brand new, and somehow familiar at the same time. He knows he has never seen such a place before in his life, but it seems to fit into some kind of deeper memory. _Could the homeworld have been like this?_

A cough from behind him dispels Kal's revelry. He turns around, breathing a deep sigh. The air is fresh in his lungs, even through the suit's filters. "Yes?" he says irritably. His voice sounds strange in the vast openness.

"Well," says James. "I was thinking we could take a look around for the rest of the survivors. They've gotta be somewhere, and we don't want to get caught by surprise when night comes." He smiles wryly. "If you're finished sightseeing, that is."

Kal nods, forcing his focus back to the present. The trees still call him, beckoning with their shifting shadows and the sweet scent of their needles, but Kal ignores them. Time to work.

The ship is even more of a mess from the outside. From this side, all that's visible is a thick plume of sooty smoke and the occasional belch of flame from the amputated aft end. The nose has fared a little better: All along its length windows are smashed, plating is buckled, cracked and scorched, and the structure of the craft is crumpled from the impact point. As James and Kal hobble around the broken body of the ship he's killed, they see more and more felled trees, split and uprooted around the deep gouge the crashing ship had carved. As they near the nose, Kal can see a smoking tunnel cut through the trees in the wake of the dead ship. They reach the tip of the vessel, or how much of it that is visible. The nose is buried in a crater of upturned soil and rocks. It is crumpled beyond repair, and Kal sees the broken window through which the sun rudely awoke him.

James leans against Kal's shoulder, catching his breath. After a few moments' pause, he speaks. "Well, you sure made a hell of a mess, didn't you?"

Kal shoots a sidelong view at him. He's destroyed the man's ship, killed his crew mates, and robbed him of a prize quarian frigate to boot, but he doesn't seem fazed by it at all. If anything, it just seems to have made him obnoxiously amused. Kal grunts, settling for: "Your ship, human. You're welcome to clean it up if it's bothering you."

"No no," chuckles James. "I love what you've done with it. It was so boring before. So 'not on fire'."

Kal doesn't know what to say to that, so instead he looks around the crash site. The trees are thinner here, and one can see for a good distance in any direction. Kal catches sight of something and squints at it. "You see that?" he says.

"Huh?" James leans forward, shielding his eyes with his free arm. "Definitely someone over there. No- two people, I think."

Kal squints some more. He can almost make out two figures in the distance, moving around. "Damn," he swears. "Gotta be the pirates."

"What should we do?" asks James.

"I think botha you mothafucka's should put your hands on your heads," says a gravelly voice from behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

Kal'Reegar sighs and slowly shuts his eyes. "Well, shit."

…

Kal and James are lead deeper into the forest around the other side of the ship. The tree trunks grow thicker, but most of the branches are above head hight, allowing them relatively clear passage. The ground is carpeted with fallen needles, painting the world around them every conceivable shade of brown and green. Every now and then James stumbles and Kal has to stop to readjust his hold. Every time, he is met with a sharp prod in the back by their unseen captor's gun barrel.

Under the direction of the pirate, they make a wide, looping turn, coming out of the forest on the opposite side of the crash site. A group of humans mill about on the fringe of the clearing. Kal examines the group as he and James are pushed roughly towards the pirates' impromptu campsite. Men lounge against fallen trees or wander around aimlessly, most nursing a wide assortment of wounds. Kal notices that some of the injuries seem to be gunshots. Interesting.

As they draw closer, Kal blinks in surprise. Not all of the pirates are human. One of the figures crouching in the center of the camp is a turian. He wears battered gray armor, and when he turns his head Kal notices a long scar running across his face from his eye all the way down to his mandible. The turian seems to be in a quiet but heated discussion with one of the humans next to him. His finger traces something in the dirt, and he looks up at the man, who shakes his head.

Kal feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Stop," commands the pirate. He steps out from behind them, and Kal sees he's shorter than himself, with dark skin and a stubbly gray beard. He cups a hand around his mouth like a megaphone and shouts to the pirates. "Hey! Look what I caught, boys!"

The armored turian looks sharply in their direction. He stands up and strides towards the prisoners. The human next to him follows behind nonchalantly, eying Kal appraisingly. From the turian's bearing and authoritative manor Kal instantly takes him for the leader, but as the two draw up before him it is the human who speaks, pushing in front of the turian. "Well, what _do_ we have here? A quarian? What're you doing so far from home?"

One whole side of the man's face is covered by a swirling green and blue tattoo, stretching from his chin all the way back over his shaved head all the way to his right ear. He stands about as tall as Kal, who judges him to be in his late thirties. Something in his eyes draws Kal's attention though; a cold flicker of ruthlessness, and perhaps a hint of madness, too. Kal waits, knowing the question is rhetorical. He might be able to take the man in unarmed combat, but the silent turian is another matter. _Wait and see what he wants. Don't make the wrong move. _Next to him he feels James stir, and hopes fervently that the human has the sense to stay quiet.

To Kal's dismay, James misreads the situation. "Ah, haha. There you are, Vin. I was gettin' worried you didn't make it out of there alive. But here we all are." The man's tone is light; a little too light, belying his obvious fear.

Vin turns his head, looking at James as one might look at an insect wandering over his shoe. "Jamie boy," he says, voice laden with contempt. "Having fun?"

James presses on, trying desperately to save the situation. He nods at Kal. "This is, um, the one who crashed the ship. He was, uh, going to help us-"

Vin gives James a hard shove, and he falls heavily. There's a chorus of laughter around the camp as James cries out, clutching his broken leg. Kal realizes he is suddenly the center of attention.

Vin turns back to him, and the playfulness is gone from his face. He steps closer to Kal, tattooed face inches from his helmet's visor. "Is that so. You caused me a lot of trouble, quarian. A lot of trouble. You think a ship like that was _cheap?"_ he yells. Kal watches silently as the mist from the man's breath evaporates from his visor. His muscles tense, ready for a fight.

The dark-skinned man who brought them in steps forward. "Hey Vin, I caught this guy. A suit like that's worth a lot. I should get to-"

Vin rounds on the pirate. "Shut up, Carson!" he screams. A vein pulses in his forehead. "This son of a bitch is mine now, you hear me? I'll do what _I _want with him, okay?"

The pirate Carson backs down, mollified. "Yes, Vin," he mutters.

"Just keep your damn gun on him," says Vin, and he turns his glare back to Kal. "Now, you fucked my ship up pretty bad, but I'm not stupid, quarian. I know your kind, and if there's anyone who can pull something useful out of that wreck, it's you. So," he says, backing a way a little, arms folded over his chest. "This is how it is. You've got all of tomorrow to prove you're worth something to me. Otherwise, it's gonna be Carson's lucky day."

Kal doesn't know the first thing about tech. He's been known to put batteries in the wrong way round, and fixing a whole starship is pretty much out of the question. He waits a moment, seeming to consider the offer, then nods slowly. "Alright. I'll take a look over it tomorrow."

Vin laughs, pleased with himself. "You bet your ass you will!" He turns to his crew, sitting in sullen silence around the clearing. The perk up when he gestures to Kal. "Okay, boys, you want some good news? We caught ourselves an engineer! Sneaky little bastard poked a hole in our boat! Most of you woulda killed the sonuvabitch for that, but there's a reason why I'm in charge. Right now, most of you are seein' a murderin' bastard what needs a hole or two in the head, yeah? But what _I _see is a ticket off of this pishole world. At first light tomorrow, he's gonna find us a way off this rock!"

There's some muted clapping, and someone wolf-whistles with a hint of sarcasm. Vin doesn't seem to notice. He turns back to Kal, a grin stretched across his face. "Well, you better get some rest, darlin'. It's gonna be a busy day for you tomorrow." He motions to the gray-armored turian beside him. "Darius, you're in charge of the quarian. Don't let him escape. Beats me what the hell they eat, but make sure he stays alive long enough to be useful."

Darius nods once. He gestures to James, still lying in the grass. "What about him?"

"What, Jamie boy?" says Vin dismissively. "He's no use to me." He smiles suddenly. "I know. Put him to work as the quarian's helper. He's not going far with a broken leg, and if he tries to run, shoot him in his other leg too!" Vin walks off, guffawing.

Darius nods to James. "Can you stand?"

James grits his teeth, and Kal sees his face has gone pasty white. Sweat glistens on his brow. "No. Not on my own."

"If you have medi-gel, give it to him," Darius says to Kal.

Kal kneels next to James and applies another dose of gel to the man's leg. James sighs, closing his eyes. "Ahh, that's better. Let's just stay here, okay?"

But Darius is already stalking off to the other side of the camp. Kal shrugs. "I guess he's not worried about us trying to escape."

"Escape? To where?" mutters James. "We're in the middle of absolutely nowhere."

…

"Camp" isn't really the word, Kal decides. What the pirates have accomplished since the crash would be better described as a confused mess. There has been no organized move to scavenge food or set up shelter. Instead men sit in the grass around odds and ends they've saved from the wreck, talking or staring vacantly off into space. As they plod after Darius, a fight breaks out over a bedroll a few meters away. Loud swearing and sounds of violence roll through the clearing more or less regularly, as similar arguments arise and are settled with fists or improvised weapons. Kal counts about fifteen pirates. He wonders how many will be left by morning.

Darius halts suddenly before a small rucksack on the outskirts of the camp. Kal helps James to the ground, where he sits awkwardly with one leg splayed out in front of him. Darius sits cross-legged, his armor clanking softly. He pulls the bag to him and begins sorting through its contents. Kal chooses a spot a little further away from the two and sits down heavily on the grass. He tilts his head up to look at the setting sun, and as the orange rays filter in through his visor something that has been nagging at him for hours catches his eye. _Oh, no..._

A line runs down the left half of his visor, so thin that he hasn't fully noticed it before. With the sunlight hitting it directly though, it's inescapably clear. Kal feels a flutter of dread in his stomach. _A crack. It must have happened during the crash._ He turns his head, checking hopefully to see if it's only a scratch, but the hairs-breadth flaw penetrates all the way through, catching the light and refracting it slightly in his vision. He opens his omni tool and runs the suit diagnostic program, but the sensors don't pick up a breach. _It must be small enough not to make a difference. I hope to Keelah it stays that way._

As Kal shuts off the omni-tool, Darius looks up sharply from the bag in his lap. "Come closer," he commands.

Kal stands up and sits back down a few feet away from the turian. "Why?" he asks.

Darius turns back to his rucksack, rummaging through it again. "So that I can kill you if you try to run," he says calmly.

Kal can't think of anything to say to that. The turian isn't displaying a pistol or rifle like some of the pirates, but there's something about his quiet, controlled manor that makes Kal wary.

After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Darius stands up abruptly. He looks calculatingly at the sun, then sets off into the trees behind them. From across their makeshift campsite, James shakes his head. "Man, he's an odd one, isn't he?"

Kal'Reegar forces his fingers to stop running over the crack in his visor. He shrugs. "I wouldn't push him if I were you. He's got it together more than most of your crew."

James shakes his head. "Look, I don't even know half these guys. They sure don't see me as part of the crew." He looks into the grass, and mumbles, "Well, I guess you could see that."

Kal chuckles. "Yeah, I noticed that. That Vin guy, he the leader?"

"He's the meanest, and the toughest, and he tells everybody else what to do. So yeah, he's the leader."

"Maybe," says Kal. "But there's a difference between mean and tough. That turian, he looked tough. I assumed he would be running the show here, not the clown with the tattoo."

James props himself up on an elbow, looking out into the forest. "So, tell me, _do_ you know anything about starships?"

Kal picks a blade of grass, rolling it between his fingers. For a second he wishes he could truly feel the little plant, could smell its fragrance, put it in his mouth and taste it. Then he remembers his situation and the thought seems ridiculous. He'll be lucky just to survive the next day. "They're big and metal and they float," he says in answer to James's question. "Somewhere inside 'em eezo gets zapped and that makes some kind of bubble. That's about it, unless you've got more, human."

"I have a name, you know," says James reproachfully. "We're pretty much both prisoners here. You may as well learn it." He pauses. "You never even told me your own name. I'm not gonna keep calling you 'quarian'."

Kal sighs. "Kal'Reegar, Migrant fleet marines. You happy?"

James smiles, leaning all the way back and looking up at the darkening sky. "A soldier, huh? Is it alright if I just call you 'Kal'?"

"No."

"Okay, Kal."

Kal turns his attention back to the pirates. Them men are a motley bunch of all different shapes, sizes, and colors, all sporting different makes of armor and weapons. The man nearest to them has dark eyes and skin. He sits alone on a broken tree branch, flipping a butterfly knife open and closed in his hands. The man notices Kal's gaze, and glares back at him with an intensity that surprises Kal. He looks away, baffled.

Before long Darius reenters the clearing, appearing soundlessly behind Kal's shoulder. The turian drops an armload of branches and splintered wood in the middle of their area. He then squats down and sets to tearing grass out of the ground. Kal watches him, bemused. After he has cleared a circular patch of dirt, Darius begins leaning small sticks against each other in its center, with dead leaves piled between them. As the quarian and human look on, the turian retrieves a shiny bit of metal and a black rod from his bag. He scrapes the metal down the rod, producing a shower of golden sparks.

Darius strikes the rod several more times, eventually producing a tiny ember in his jumble of leaves and sticks. The turian blows on the coal, shielding it, and to Kal's amazement fire blossoms almost instantly.

Across from him James stares with an open mouth, but Darius merely sits back, making a slight noise of self satisfaction. He piles more branches on the fire and it grows, casting a dancing yellow light over the trio's faces.

The sun is almost set now, its amber rays brushing the horizon in farewell, leaving the sky a pining, dusky blue. The pirates' shadows lengthen as they move around, suddenly realizing that night is about to fall. Darius's fire cracks and sparks, and every now and then he rearranges something with a poke of a stick, or adds another branch when the flames dwindle. Kal feels the turian's eyes on him, sizing him up. He waits for the question.

"You're not really an engineer, are you?" asks Darius. His voice is low and gravelly, not menacing, but utterly self confident.

Kal decides it's safe to tell the truth. Besides, he has the suspicion the turian would know if he lied. "No," he says. "I'm a soldier. Migrant Fleet marines."

Darius nods. "I thought so."

When the turian is silent, Kal asks, "Why?"

"You look like a soldier. You walk like one too, shoulders back, chin up. That's not the walk of someone who spends their time stooped over engines and computer consoles."

"Yeah, well," says Kal. "Your leader won't be too happy when he finds out I don't know a damn thing about computers."

Silence reigns, accented by the crackle of the fire and the chirp of night insects.

James says, "I know about computers."

Kal looks up. "You do?"

James sits up. "Well, I won't be any good helping with the drive core or engines or anything," he says hesitantly. "But if you need something from the mainframe, I can get you there. Assuming it still works, of course."

Kal nods, and in his mind something from his early days in the marines flashes. "The engines got mostly blown off anyway," he says thoughtfully. "But... But we can't fix the ship anyway. We don't need to. If we can salvage the transmitter, we can send an SOS!"

He sits back, smiling. He feels a flicker of hope, and survival is suddenly a very real possibility. Beyond the illuminated circle they sit in, other pirates eye Darius's fire, but they're either too timid or too proud to come nearer. One by one, they pick up their things and retreat to the fires that still burn along the crater of the crash site.

Darius stands up, stretching luxuriously. He picks up his bag and rifles through it, taking out two wrapped packets. He hands one to James. "Here. That should be safe for you. It's enough to last two days, so make sure it does." He turns to Kal, and his mandibles twitch into what Kal realizes is a frown. "I don't have anything for you, quarian."

"That's alright," says Kal. "I've got the emergency ration tubes on me."

James opens his packet and pulls a face. "Tell me," he says. "What does nutrient paste taste like?"

Darius waves the two into silence. He points to the crash site. "Watch."

The sun has now set completely. As darkness falls, the fires along the husk of the ship glow strangely, feeding off gases within the hull. Kal feels the breeze against his suit change direction. In the distance, the thick plume of smoke from the wreckage changes direction, blowing directly across where the pirates are bedding down. Frenzied shouting wafts towards them on the breeze, and Kal sees the forms of the men as the choke and cough and run out of the path of the smoke. Darius laughs quietly.

The night is beginning to get cold. Kal'Reegar shifts closer to the fire and lies down on the grass. His thoughts move to the Ierra. He remembers his last view of the ship, drifting helpless in space as canon fire pummeled her hull. He wonders if they got the power back on, if help arrived in time. He wonders if help will arrive for him. _That's up to you to decide,_ he reminds himself. _Get that transmitter running tomorrow and you can radio the fleet. Just survive until then._

He turns over, and suddenly the dark, staring face from earlier comes back. "Darius," he asks. "Who's that dark guy with the straight black hair, who was flipping around the knife?"

"That was Demetrius," says the turian.

"Oh," says Kal, closing his eyes. "I don't think he likes me. Well, I don't think _anyone_ here likes me, but he seemed pissed off about something."

"I imagine so," responds Darius placidly. "You killed his brother, Franco."

**A/N: In this chapter we get introduced to a few new characters. Things are going to be getting exciting rather soon I think. As for now, I'm happy to get the new chapter out so soon, because I really never know when I'll have time. Thank you for your reviews! Believe me, I live on those things. So, you had better review. Or at least think about it... I'll try to pick up on the psychic waves. ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_Finally, here is chapter four. I have fretted over it, held its hand and made sure it had its coat buttoned up, but now it is time to let it go out into the world. Goodbye little chapter! I hope they are nice to you out there._

**Chapter 4**

The sun beats down on the crashed ship, heating the metal hull hot enough to scorch and creating a shimmering in the air around it. The fires have mostly gone out, having burnt through their fuel during the night. Within the depths of the crater coals smolder, a cherry red glow beneath twisted metal, heaved-up soil and roots.

The inside of the ship is cooler, shaded from the harsh sunlight that spills through the cracks here and there. It falls across the deck in bars of orange as Kal and James pick their way through the ruined spacecraft. The morning light gives the scene an odd dreamlike quality, as if the ship has been here in the forest for years. James is on his feet again, as the injury to his leg has turned out to be no more than a fracture. With a steady application of medi-gel from Kal's dwindling supply, the bone is gradually fusing itself back together, leaving James able to walk. At least Kal doesn't have to carry him, which is worth the spent medi-gel as far as he's concerned.

"This is ridiculous," mutters Kal as he shoves aside a tangle of hanging tubing. "It would take a miracle to float this ship again. Keelah, she's missing her whole aft end! How can she fly with no engines?"

James looks over his shoulder. Behind them Darius stands, seemingly relaxed, looking around the ship with mild interest. The turian still forgoes any obvious weaponry, but he keeps a close watch on the two prisoners, not letting them get too far ahead as they explore the ship. "Well, we can throw that out then," says James. "But we've got to pull something together. If we don't have anything for Vin by the end of today, we're fucked."

Kal grunts, stomping down a side hallway. The ship lies slightly askew, giving the deck a disconcerting tilt. "What was that you said before?" he remarks. "'I know the crew. They'll listen to me.'"

"Okay, fine, I lied," says James. He shrugs. "I had no choice. I had to make you think I was useful. I mean, I _am _useful," he adds quickly.

"Like hell you are," says Kal.

"Oh, come on! Where would you be without me? If I wasn't there, Vin would've killed you on sight." He pauses. "And now, he's going to kill both of us tomorrow! See, that's much better!"

Kal decides not to answer this. Instead he plods off down another random hall, James trailing after him. The hall makes a turn and terminates in a dead end, blocked by a smashed-in wall. He backtracks, feeling a rising sense of hopelessness as room after room yields absolutely nothing. Broken desks, crumpled steel, scattered odds and ends, but nothing of actual use. After yet another dead end Kal stops, leans his head against a wall in frustration. He doesn't know what he expected; a giant green "fix everything" button, maybe? Behind him he hears James enter the room.

The human is silent for a moment, then he says: "Whatever you were looking for, I doubt it's in here. This is the mess. Ha. Mess."

Kal sighs. "I don't have a clue what I'm looking for."

"Well, let's think for a second, instead of running around without a plan. I mean, that seems to be your general strategy for life, and I wouldn't want to cramp your style or anything..."

"If you have something useful to say, say it, human," growls Kal. "I'm _really_ not in the mood."

"Okay," says James, unbothered by Kal's stormy tone. "Actually fixing the ship is out, obviously. So we, ourselves, are pretty much screwed."

"Thank you for that."

"But," James continues. "All that means is that if we can't get ourselves out, we have to get someone else to do it for us!"

Kal's eyes open wide. An incredibly obvious solution has hit him straight in the face. _Could I really have been that stupid?_

"So," says James. "What _I_ was thinking was that we could look through for the radio, assuming it still works, and try to signal for a trade ship somewhere nearby. It's a slim chance, but it's the best I can do."

Kal straightens up, almost grinning behind his visor. "Oh, I can do better than that. Come on, show me where the radio is."

James leads the way back through the ship, all the way back to the bridge. They pass through the doorway, and Kal is suddenly hit by memories of the previous day. He thinks again of the Ierra, and hopes fervently that Briel has managed to pull himself together in time to save the crew. It's still hard for him to believe that his insane gamble worked. _You're lucky to be here at all_, he reminds himself. _Coming out alive was never part of the plan. Or it wouldn't have been, if there was a plan._

"It's gotta be in here somewhere," says James. "Or at least, I should be able to access it from one of these consoles. Tell me, what's this great idea of yours?"

Kal thinks quickly. There's no way he can let the pirates find out what he plans to do. James, however, might be another matter. No-one back at the camp seems to like or trust him, and there's a good chance anything he says will be ignored on principle. It's a hell of a risk, though. Kal turns it over in his mind, and has a sinking feeling. He's always mistrusted technology, preferring not to rely too much on things. He's going to need help, at least for now, and that means letting James in on his plan.

"I'll show you," he says. "But first we need to power up the radio."

"First we need to _find_ the radio," says James, thankfully not pressing questions. He searches the room, eventually stopping in front of the least-damaged looking console. He waves his hand over it, an omni-tool flashing to life around his hand. The terminal remains dark. James nods to himself and turns to Kal. "Like I thought," he says. "No power left. We need to get down to the generator and activate the emergency power."

"Will that work?" asks Kal dubiously.

"Assuming it's not drained, assuming we can get to an access hatch, and assuming we can push through whatever debris has fallen below decks. And when I say 'we,'" James looks down at his leg. "I mean 'you.'"

…

The ship begins to heat up, and Kal can feel it despite the cooling filaments in his suit. He looses track of time as he pushes and pulls wreckage aside, connects hoses, pulls levers, and runs back and forth to check dials and pressure readouts under the watchful, and sometimes sarcastic eye of his fellow prisoner. The generator setup is complex, and much of it has come unconnected during the crash. He feels his temper rising with the heat as he is informed that the coupling goes in that connector, no, _that_ one, genius, not the round one. It's a square bloody linkage, why would it go in the round connector? What do you mean "where is it?" Yes, I can see it from here, but why don't you get your head out of your ass and look for it?

Despite his wearing nerves, the work is physical enough and he feels as if he's getting something done. Escape sits in his mind, a hope growing closer with each shifted crate and reconnected power line. Finally, the last piece is in place. Kal flips the switch. The generator sits there, cold and apparently lifeless. He looks up questioningly at James. "It's not working."

"Yes it is," says James. "It's not doing anything, but the emergency power is already stored up inside. Now that we've reconnected it, we can use the battery to power the mainframe."

Kal climbs back up to where James sits at the lip of the service hatch. He steps off the ladder and takes a look around cautiously. Darius is sitting against a wall further down the hall, looking at something on his omni-tool. He seems to be out of earshot. Kal sits down next to James, giving the appearance that he's taking a rest. He leans his elbows on his knees, lowering his head. "How bad do you want to get off of this world, human?" he says, eyes fixed ahead.

"Why? What are you planning?" asks James nervously.

"I'll tell you," says Kal. "But I need to know that you won't go running to the rest of your crew if I do. The only reason I'm telling you at all is because as far as I can tell, nobody here gives a pyjak's ass about what you say." He shoots a sidelong glance at James. The human looks a little hurt. "Also," he continues. "I can't do it alone. But if they find out, they'll kill both of us."

"Is everything you do suicidal and stupid?" inquires James. "Because the evidence is really not in your favor."

"The alternative," grits Kal, forcing his voice to stay even. "Is starvation. You saw those clowns last night; they can't even start a fire! How long you think you'll last, at the bottom of the food chain, with a lame leg?"

"What about merchant ships, or freighters? We could-"

"Get real. Even if we could signal a ship, do you really think they'd go out of their way to help us? Where's the money? No one's hauling ass to save a quarian and a bunch of pirates, believe me."

James is silent for a moment, then he slumps a little bit. "Fine," he says dejectedly. "What's your idea then?"

Kal picks his head up, checking that Darius is still absorbed in his omni-tool. "If we can power up the radio, we can use it to boost my own transmitter, yes?"

James frowns. "Well, yeah, but what would be the point? A local radio can't get nearly as much wavelength as the one in the ship."

Kal smiles. He taps his head. "I'm a marine, remember? Our suits are more than just incredibly fashionable."

James snorts. "Red and taupe? You've got to be kidding me."

Kal ignores him. "We're away from the fleet for a long time on most missions. Our envirosuits hold everything we need to survive and get back safely. Nutrient paste. Water supply. Heat dispersal systems. A locater device."

James stares at nothing for a few seconds. Then he turns to Kal, eyes wide. "No!"

"Quiet!" hisses Kal.

James's eyes dart to Darius. _"No," _he whispers fiercely. "Are you crazy? You want me to help you bring the quarians _here?"_

"Do you have a better idea?" Kal asks evenly. "No, you don't. Do you want to live? I'm guessing you do. I do too. This is our only choice."

James hangs his head, runs a hand through his hair. It falls down over his face anyway, brushing the tip of his nose. He blows it out of his eyes and looks up at Kal. "It really is, isn't it?" He reads the answer in Kal's silence and sighs. "Damn. Well, I guess I'd rather die by firing squad than starvation anyway. Works out alright for you, doesn't it?"

Kal shakes his head. "They won't kill you. You'll stand in a fair trial, just like everybody else."

"You sure about that?" says James uncertainly. "Isn't piracy like a capital offense for you people?"

"For real pirates, maybe," says Kal. "We persecute killers and ship-breakers. You've obviously never killed anyone."

James bristles. "You don't know that," he says.

Kal makes a face in the privacy of his helmet. Out loud he says, "You'll do better in a court of law than with Vin. He's only keeping us around as long as we're useful. Even if we did find other help, he'd have us killed before it could ever get here."

James looks off into space for what seems to Kal like a long time. Finally, he nods his head. "Alright, help me up. Let's go get that transmitter running before the generator breaks. I don't think I can live through watching you try to fix it again."

Kal hauls the human to his feet. "That was a whole generator! A radio can't possibly be as bad."

…

It's worse. The sun, having reached its zenith, begins its ponderous journey back down over the horizon. Birds sing in the forest, heralding the beginning of the end of another day. Inside the ship, Kal squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stop the onset of a headache. He wonders, yet again, why they had to make computers so damn complicated. He's starting to believe that they personally hate him. "Alright," he says, not daring to open his eyes yet. "What do I do again?"

"Open up the start menu. That's in the bottom left corner," says James, with exaggerated patience.

"I know where the start menu is," growls Kal. It would be better, he thinks, if he could pound something, but the haptic interface requires dainty, precise keystrokes. The look on James's face the first time Kal put his fist through the keyboard had been almost worth it, but it was a trick that got old fast. "Remind me, why am I doing this?"

"Because I don't have an omni-tool."

Kal scowls. "I'm starting to think you're enjoying this."

"Believe me," says James. "It stopped being funny after the fifth time. Now, can we try this once more?"

"Okay, okay, start, system settings, um..."

"Network tools."

Kal squints at the minuscule text. "It's not there."

"It was there the last six times. It's there."

"Ah, found it." Kal carefully taps the tile on his omni-tool, half expecting it to blow up in his face.

"Miraculous. Who would have thought it was possible."

"Now signal... Internal signal?"

"Yep."

"And... I go to devices... And hit 'other...'"

"And now the terminal."

Holding his glowing right arm out awkwardly, Kal uses his left hand to bring up the networking panel on the ship computer. He enters a few commands as James instructs, and then waits. "It says discovering," he announces. "There's a little blue circle."

"Good. Little blue circle is good."

"And now there are words. It says 'device connected.'"

There's muffled applause from Darius down the hall. James claps him on the back, and his hand goes through the screen again. "Well done, Kal."

Kal mutters something under his breath.

"That was just beautiful to watch," continues James, wiping away a theatrical tear. "Maybe someday you'll even print a document!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now," says Kal. "I can do it from here. I know how to do this much, at least."

"Thank goodness," says James. He closes his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Kal looks at him, and feels a momentary twinge of friendliness towards the man. He's obnoxious, but in a lighthearted sort of way, and he has a carefree manner about him that Kal envies.

He shakes his head. _You can't think like that. He's your enemy. Thinking like that just makes you weak. Prepare for a time when you may have to kill him._ With effort, he shoves aside the growing warm feeling of camaraderie, replacing it with the cold steel of the soldier. He opens his omni-tool and activates his suit's SOS beacon. A little light begins flashing in the corner of the display. He stares at the tiny dot for a moment, wondering if anyone back home is watching. Then he tares his eyes away and sinks down next to James. "It's done," he tells the human.

James opens his eyes. "That's it? What now?"

"Now," says Kal. "We wait. The beacon's signal will stay boosted until the power runs out. In that time, someone will have to notice. They'll send a ship." _I hope,_ he adds silently.

"So what do we tell Vin?" asks James. "He's gonna get suspicious if we don't look busy."

Kal thinks for a minute. "It's pretty obvious we can't fix the ship, so we'll tell him your idea, that we're trying to send a distress signal. It should only take a day or two for a ship to get here from the Migrant Fleet, so we just have to pretend we're working on something until then."

James nods. "I'm pretty sure nobody here knows anything about tech, so I can make up some elaborately technical bullshit if I need to."

Kal opens his mouth to speak, but closes it suddenly as Darius enters the bridge. Another man trails behind him, looking agitated. The man holds a rifle, and Kal is willing to bet he hasn't heard of the word "safety catch."

"Come," says Darius shortly. Kal doesn't know much about turian faces, but Darius's tone and the way his mandibles pull together paint a picture of someone ill at ease.

Kal gets to his feet, pulling James after him. "What is it?" he asks.

"No talking," commands Darius. "Stay close behind me."

They follow the turian out of the ship, James struggling to match Darius's pace. The human with the gun jogs ahead, disappearing around the side of the ship. Darius follows, James and Kal in tow, and soon the pirate camp is in sight.

Kal gets the impression that everything has recently gone to hell. Men stand pensively in a semicircle, clustered around Vin and another human who are engaged in a shouting match. Belongings are scattered around the clearing, evidence of a disturbance of some kind. As they draw closer Kal can hear the argument over the muttering of the other pirates.

"So I get back here," Vin is saying. "And I find _this_? And there's no explanation?"

"We don't know what happened!" yells the other pirate, a middle-aged man with bristly hair and a beet-red complexion. "We were all spread out, looking for food _like you told us to_! He just wandered off, I don't have a fucking clue what happened!"

The approach the camp and Darius slows, pushing his way into the gathering. Kal holds out his arm, stopping James a few meters away from the group. "Don't say a damn thing," he whispers. "Whatever happened, I don't want to be blamed for it."

James nods silently. The men are talking quietly among themselves, a nervous rumbling sound that builds as Darius pushes his way to the center.

"This is your fucking fault," Vin screams at the hapless pirate before him. "_You_ were left in charge, it was _your_ responsibility, not mine! So don't give me any bull crap about how you were spread out. I want to know who did it!"

Darius clears his throat. It is an impressive sound with the turian's sub-vocal chords, and as if by magic the men fall silent. _They respect him,_ thinks Kal. _He talks, and they listen because he might have something actually valuable. When Vin talks, no one listens because it's just hot air. So why isn't he leading them?_

"Who," says Darius, breaking the silence. "Did what?"

The red-faced pirate turns away from Vin, looking up at Darius with much less belligerence. "You'd better follow me," he says. Darius nods, and the man heads off toward the edge of the forest. The rest of the group follows, with Kal and James bringing up the rear from a safe distance.

"It was only a half an hour ago," the pirate says to Darius. "We were out foraging, trying to look for something edible in this damn place, and no-one was really paying attention to each other. Like I said, we were all spread out, and Carson must have got farther ahead, and... Well, we came running when we heard the screams. It was bad. I've seen some shit, but if I never see something like that again I'll count myself lucky. Makes a man remember his age. I'm getting too old for this. Hell, he was too."

Darius says nothing, and Kal's view of him is blocked by other men and the trees. By now they have reached the fringe of the forest, and the man leads them further in. They walk in silence save for the scattered muttering of worried men, backtracking occasionally as their guide looses his trail. It is ten or fifteen minutes before they reach their destination, and when finally stop a hush falls over the group. The pirates huddle together, forming a wall in front of Kal and blocking his sight. They are all staring at something on the ground.

"Shit," says Darius slowly.

Impatiently, Kal shoves his way through the press of bodies. The men don't pay him any heed, and he moves close to the front without any trouble.

The sight that greets his eyes pulls at his stomach, and he feels bile rising in his throat. The trunks of trees are splattered with dark red, and the grass is stained the same deep crimson. The ground itself is torn up, and in the center of it all lies the body of Carson, slumped against a tree.

The man is barely recognizable. Half of the face has been stripped away, leaving the skull gleaming white under shredded red tissue. The face mocks the onlookers, jaw hanging open in a manic laugh. Carson's throat is gone, a gaping hole surrounded by torn skin and cartilage. The destruction continues down the man's torso, where his belly has been ripped open, slick coils of intestine hanging out, spilling onto the grass. The whole tableau is painted a gaudy red, more blood drenching the scene than Kal had ever thought could be in a person. To his left somebody retches into the bushes.

Kal blinks, but the image is seared into his eyes. He looks away, fighting down the urge to vomit. He catches sight of Darius, who is looking up at the sky.

"Well?" demands Vin.

"Look around you," says Darius. Look at all this blood. If any of us did it, we would be covered in the stuff." He lowers his gaze to the men, eyes narrowed. "Besides," he says gravely. "No man did this. Look: the wounds aren't cut, they're _torn_. This is not the work of weapons."

Vin looks around, shifting from foot to foot. "I don't like this," he says. "We should get out of here."

Overhead, the last remnants of daylight are seeping away. Darius turns away from the corpse. "I think that would be a good idea," he says.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The walk back through the woods quickly turns into a jog as the last light of evening fades away. Kal and James are pushed to the middle as the pirates beat a hasty retreat, no man wanting to be caught in the rear. The journey is quicker this time, and as they break out of the trees and into the clearing Vin begins barking orders. "Everyone stay put! I don't want anyone else wandering off tonight!"

The men fan out over the grass, shuffling their feet and shooting uneasy glances over their shoulders at the darkening forest. Kal stands back from the group. A cool breeze sweeps in, rustling leaves and sending an involuntary shiver across his skin. He feels the envirosuit's conditioner begin to heat up, taking the chill out of the air.

No one is paying him much attention, which is fine with him. Kal crosses his arms, curious to see how Vin is going to handle the situation. From everything he's seen, the tattooed human isn't much of a leader. He controls his men by threats and intimidation, but Kal can tell they don't have any real respect for him. He remembers the first day, and how a few men had fresh gunshot wounds. _There must have been a mutiny. Barely anything is holding these men together. That could be useful._

Suddenly a hand clamps down on his shoulder. Kal jumps, and twists around to see Darius and James. "You boys had better stay close to me," murmurs the turian, looking intently at the gathering of pirates. "Plenty of these men are looking for someone to blame for what happened to Carson, and killing you would satisfy them for the time being. Right now Vin will do anything he can to avert a mutiny."

Kal nods, and he starts to speak but is cut off by Vin, calling to Darius from across the clearing.

"Turian! Get over here!"

Kal expects Darius to offer some sort of retort, to object to Vin's disrespectful tone, but the turian shows no sign of anger. "Follow me," he says to Kal, and strides toward the center of the group.

Kal glances at James. The human shrugs, as if to say "Don't look at me, I just work here," and he sets off after Darius. Kal follows him.

Vin's eyes flick over the prisoners, and then settle back on Darius. "Don't think I didn't notice you were the only one with a fire last night," he spits at the turian. "Why didn't you show me how to do that?"

"You never asked," Darius replies calmly.

"Fine," Vin growls. "Do it now. I want a bonfire, right here. We need some light around here."

"Alright," says Darius. "I'll need some firewood first. There are plenty of fallen trees around here. We need sticks and branches, all different sizes."

"You heard him," Vin shouts to the pirates. "Get us some firewood. Move!"

The men sidle off, looking uncomfortable to leave the main group. After more shouts and curses from Vin they begin to reluctantly gather up broken foliage and wood, and soon there is a good sized pile of tree branches in the center of the clearing. Darius begins arranging a cone of twigs and leaves as he had the night before, and within a few minutes a little fire crackles to life. The pirates seat themselves in a ring around the fire, watching silently as Darius coaxes the conflagration larger and larger, adding branches carefully, poking things around every now and then with a stick. Kal watches too, impressed despite himself. The clearing brightens, dancing orange light falling over the grass, playing across the sharp angles of the turian's face, giving him a fierce, warlike appearance.

Kal's fingers rise almost unconsciously to the crack in his visor. It's thin enough that he can forget it for hours at a time, but every now and then his mind will wander back to it. He forces his hand down, scowling. _There's nothing I can do about it now. Just leave it alone._ He pushes it to the back of his mind where it lodges, nagging him quietly. He doesn't think about what kind of pathogens this world could contain, how many hostile bacteria are floating through the air right in front of him, tapping on the glass, looking for a way in.

The men have gathered into a circle, and they sit in the grass and stare silently into the fire. Across from Kal Vin sits alone, brows furrowed moodily. The air in the camp is heavy, and anticipation hangs in it like oil on the surface of water. Kal sees the mens' eyes flick to Vin, and then back away again. Everybody is waiting to find out what they're waiting for. Kal turns his head, looking around for James, who is sitting a ways away watching Kal out of the corner of his eye. Kal grimaces, and though the expression is lost behind his visor the human looks away hurriedly.

Vin stands abruptly. The dancing shadows and the man's tattoos combine to make his face look even more strange, more alien. "We're going," he says, addressing the gathering. "Get your things together. We're not staying here any longer."

There is silence for a few moments, and Kal tries to piece together some kind of sense from Vin's statement. Darius finally breaks the hush, speaking slowly and carefully. "Where do you think we should go?"

"I don't care," says Vin, and Kal thinks he looks uncomfortable. "We're not staying here. Too out int the open, I don't like it. We can make camp in the forest, we've got to keep moving. Come on, let's go!"

"But the ship is here," Darius reminds him. "We're"

"The ship's fucked!" yells Vin, suddenly hysterical. "We're not going anywhere with that piece of junk! It's worthless! If we want to survive, we have to move! There's got to be something on this world besides trees!"

Darius stands up slowly. It is a simple movement, but Vin's sentence slowly trails off. Kal looks around the clearing. All eyes are riveted on the turian. He speaks levelly, but in the Darius's sub-vocals Kal thinks he can hear distant thunder. "Something out there killed Carson. Here, we have fire, and the ship to fall back to. You want us to go out there, in the dark, with some kind of predator roaming the forest."

"I'm in command!" cries Vin. "You think I don't see the looks you give me, you think I don't know you want to be the leader? You've always wanted to be, but you never will be! I'm stronger than you and you know it. So I'll give the orders around here, not you!"

Kal rises, his legs apparently ignoring his brain's warnings. "We can't leave," he says, and he's suddenly aware of how out of place his Migrant Fleet accent sounds. "The ship is our only chance for survival! The generator's already died, and the-" _And the beacon's already stopped, so if we move they'll never find us._

Darius looks over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "We'll talk about this later, Quarian. Why don't you sit back down." It's a command, not a question.

Kal's fingers curl into fists, and he feels his whole body tense. Everything depends on them staying where they are. Without the ship radio's boost, his suit's signal will never be enough to reach a ship in orbit. _If we leave this clearing, they're as good as dead. _Darius has turned back to Vin, who is fuming.

"You won't be talking about anything, you fucking traitor! You think you can do this, talk to me like this? You think you're tough shit? All these years, and now you finally find your balls, huh?"

"You're making a mistake," says Darius. "You're nervous, we all are, and you're not thinking clearly. Take the night to think this over. We can make a more rational decision in the morning."

"This is mutiny!" screams Vin, ignoring Darius's words. "You turian bastard, you won't even say it, you try to sneak around me because you know you can't beat me! You're always sneaking around. You don't even carry a weapon."

Something glints in the firelight, and suddenly Vin has a pistol in his hand. He aims it at Darius's chest. "Well," he sneers. "It's too bad for you. Trying to turn the crew against me? Well, I won't put up with mutiny." He grins maliciously, and the gun fires.

The crack echoes across the clearing, the flash searing Kal's eyes for a second. When his eyes adjust and he can see again, it takes a moment for him to realize what's happening. Darius stands with his feet apart, several meters away from Vin. His right arm is raised straight out in front of him, palm tilted up, facing the muzzle of the gun. The air shimmers slightly around his hand, a little out of focus, and within it glitters a tiny fleck of silver, suspended centimeters away from the turian's skin. Vin grits his teeth and pulls the trigger again. The gun fires three more times and then it locks, hissing steam. _That's a high caliber pistol, _thinks Kal. _Sounds like Carnifex. Even with shields, he's a gonner._

But when Kal blinks away the shadow of the flash, Darius still stands. The turian's eyes are closed, a look of acute concentration on his face. Then suddenly they snap open, staring straight at Vin, who stands with his mouth slightly open and a look of puzzlement on his face. Darius takes a single step forward, arm still out-raised, and Vin stumbles back. "Don- Don't-" he chokes out.

Darius's eyes narrow, and then Vin screams and reels back, a blood stain appearing on his shoulder. He drops the gun and clutches his wound, and Kal can see fear in his eyes. Darius takes another step, a tiny sound of exertion escaping his throat. His palm shimmers, then the air around his hand seems to collapse in on itself and Vin cries out again.

The pirates watch silently as Vin falls to one knee, his arms dead at his sides, both shoulders streaming blood. Darius takes another step, gritting his teeth as he forces out words through the strain. "_Trej__æ__lk._ We are civilians. We do not _mutiny._" The air ripples again and Vin skids backward across the grass, blood spraying from his chest. He coughs, a horrible bubbling sound. Darius closes the gap between them with four quick steps. He lowers his hand, palm pointing at the human's forehead. The air shimmers, and there is a wet _crunch_. Vin's body convulses once and is still.

Darius staggers, almost loosing his footing. He squeezes his eyes shut, leaning with his hands on his knees.

Shocked silence hangs in the air. The fire crackles, and a pocket of air in one of the branches explodes, sending a shower of sparks into the night. Kal realizes he is holding his breath and makes himself exhale, relaxing his hands. His fists uncurl, knuckles aching.

Darius straightens up. His eyes pass over the watching pirates slowly. It is a few moments before he seems to find his voice. "He would have killed all of us. I won't let that happen." He turns his back on the corpse, staring into the fire. "We stay here tonight," he says. "If anybody has another plan, I would be happy to hear it. Otherwise, get some sleep."

"What about the prisoners?" calls somebody from behind him. "What do we do with them?"

"I'm not interested in Vin's games," says Darius. "For better or for worse, James is part of this crew. If anybody forgets, I will remind you."

Dmitri steps forward. Kal doesn't like the look on the human's face. "What about the quarian? Vin was right about something, at least. There's no way we can get the ship running again, not after what he did to her. He's no good to us now, Darius. Let me do what I need to do."

"No," says Darius. "I was with them on the ship. He and James are working on a solution, and right now it looks like our best option."

Dmitri bares his teeth. "That's not good enough, Darius! My brother's life is unavenged, and you know what that means! His spirit is stuck in this world, and for what? What can the bastard do that's so important?"

Darius turns, and almost before Kal registers the movement he is inches away from Dmitri. "You do not _decide_ what's good enough, Dmitri. I know what you believe, but I won't make my decisions based on it. Franco died because the quarians fought back, not the other way around. It's time you got over that."

Dmitri's face contorts in anger, but he doesn't challenge Darius. Instead he turns away and storms off into the darkness. Darius watches him go, then he turns back to the pirates. "Anyone else have something on their mind that can't wait until morning? Good. Go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **Just a short chapter this time. I thought I'd take the chance to delve into James's perspective a little. Also, there has been some confusion about this, so let me be clear: the James in this story is NOT James Vega. He is my own OC._

.

.

.

**Chapter 6**

The moon hangs low in the sky, its face almost wholly lit up, pearly white with a tinge of orange. _Waxing gibbous,_ thinks James, and his lips twist into a smile as he remembers learning the phases of the moon, not from a teacher, but from Peter, what seems like a million years ago now. Peter taught him many things: Science, or at least the interesting bits. History, lots of it. Other things, too, like how to make a bomb out of a shuttle drive system. How to hit a man and make him stay down. How to survive, when you don't have much, and what you do have everyone wants to take from you.

From Peter, he learned how long it takes a man to die from a shotgun blast. How it feels to watch your only family die before your eyes.

James turns away from the moon, blinking the image from his eyes. They settle on the quarian man standing a few meters away from him. Kal isn't paying him any attention, still focused on Darius, so James lets his eyes wander a little guiltily up and down the man's frame. He is slightly taller than James, but only by an inch or two. The quarian's suit is fairly form-fitting, and as the shifting shadows play across him they accentuate the lines of a body lean and muscled from years of hard work. _Very soldier-y,_ thinks James. He tries yet again to catch a glimpse of the man's face behind his visor, but all the fire's light affords him is the vague silhouette of a nose, the outline of a luminescent eye. He realizes he's never seen a quarian's face before, and tries without much success to guess at what Kal's might look like.

James smiles a little in spite of himself. He stretches, yawning_, _and then winces as his leg twinges savagely. He swears internally, gingerly massaging the limb. At this rate, it'll be a few more days before he can walk properly.He rubs his eyes, the day's events finally taking their toll. James looks around at the pirates, settling down in groups around the fire, and he suddenly feels very alone. Leaves tumble across the grass as a breeze moves through the clearing. James shivers. _Who knows what's on this planet_, he thinks unhappily. _Where is it they're always talking about being stranded? A desert island? I'd rather be stuck on a tropical beach than a creepy forest planet any day._

"It would be wise to stay close tonight," says a voice behind him, and James nearly jumps out of his skin. He twists around, his heart pounding away somewhere in his throat, and sees Darius. Kal stands behind him, looking around the camp silently.

"Right," says James, recalling the faces of the pirates when Darius freed him. Plenty looked like they would be perfectly happy to slip a knife between his ribs while he sleeps. "Sounds good to me," he says, and glances at Kal, who he's pretty sure is glaring at him.

"Over here," says Darius, leading the way back from the fire. His pack is set down just within the fire's glow, at the edge of the group. He takes a final look around at the impromptu campsite, and then lies down on the grass and closes his eyes.

James stares at the turian incredulously. _He comes out of absolutely nowhere after ages of being the loyal second-in-command, kills Vin, and saves our lives, and now he decides to take a nap? _But Kal only shrugs and settles down a few meters away, seemingly content to wait until morning for things to make sense, so James satisfies himself with making a face and laying down next to Kal.

The stars glitter overhead, but they are not the same stars he grew up with. James sniffs quietly. Even the grass smells wrong. He begins to feel a familiar ache deep inside his chest, a reminder of just how far from home he is. Except it's not just light-years that separate him from the memories of Peter and the tiny rundown house they shared, it's years of life too. _Years spent doing what,_ he thinks. _What have you done in seven years, James Mikaelson? What have you made of yourself?_

James turns onto his shoulder, away from the mocking stars. His eyes fall on Kal. The quarian lies with his back to him, his chest rising and falling gently. James feels another kind of ache looking at him, a fresher and sharper one. _This is crazy, _he tells himself. _I don't even know him, and he tried to kill me once already, and I'm sure he hates me, and..._

_And it doesn't make a damn scrap of difference, _supplies his brain. _It's too late for that now. Maybe you should have thought of that _before _you fell in love with him._

_ I _am not _in love with him,_ thinks James, clenching his teeth. _That's got to be the most stupid thing I've heard in my life._

_ Fine, _replies the tiny voice inside his head. _Deny it if it makes you feel better, but you and I know the truth._

James scowls. _You know you're in trouble when your subconscious sounds smug, _he thinks, and squeezes his eyes shut. He is asleep within minutes.

…

Some say soldiers, true soldiers never sleep. That there is always a part of them tensed and waiting, like a dragon sleeping with one eye open.

Kal's eyelids flutter. And suddenly he is rolling, hands reaching for weapons that aren't there, and something hits the soil with a _thunk_ where his head had been half a second earlier. He scrambles to his feet, squinting to make out his assailant. The coals of the fire throw a dim red glow over the clearing, and in it Kal can make out the shadow of a man and the glint of a knife blade being pulled from the ground.

Kal tries to back up, but he trips over the sleeping body of James and falls heavily. His attacker seizes the advantage and leaps on top of him. Kal strikes out completely on instinct, catching the man's arm and stopping his knife inches away from his throat. Kal grabs the man's wrist with both hands and jerks it past his head, hoping to stick the knife in the soil and buy himself a second. Instead, the blade hits a rock and snaps off of the handle, flying off into the darkness. Kal bucks his hips, trying to throw the man, but he holds on doggedly. Before Kal has time to try anything else his attacker grabs hold of Kal's head with both hands and slams it down on the rock.

Stars explode in Kal's vision. A cry escapes his lips, and his arms fall to his sides. The world flickers, darkness threatening to overwhelm him. He gasps, breath leaving him as the human's knee presses into his stomach. Through the black fog he sees something small and jagged glint, then his head jerks back as his attacker drives the broken knife handle into his visor. The glass rings, incredibly loudly, and a warning flashes at him from somewhere. His arms hang at his sides, unable to struggle as the the human's arm rises and falls again and again, each impact blending together, surrounding him in a world of noise and pain.

Suddenly the weight lifts from Kal's chest. He gulps in air, the blackness retreating from his vision. A hand extends to him, and with effort he raises his own arm to take it. He is pulled to his feet, and as soon as his legs seem steady enough he straightens up to see James, with a large rock in his hand. "What's the situation?" asks Kal shakily.

"I don't know," says James, sounding equally shaken. "Someone fell on me, and, and..." He seems to notice the rock in his hand for the first time, and tosses it away. "I, I mean, are you-"

Darius appears behind James. "It was Dmitri," says the turian. "I just checked. I knew he wouldn't listen to me."

"Is he dead?" asks Kal.

"No, but now he is," says Darius grimly. He squeezes James's shoulder. "Harder next time, kid."

James says nothing, looking sick. Kal steps forward, searching for something to say, and then suddenly everything is blinding and white. He reels back, shielding his eyes with an arm. A humming noise fills his ears, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

Something crackles from above him, followed by an amplified voice that is at once strange and wonderfully familiar.

_"This is the Migrant Fleet Marines! Lie down with your hands behind your head!"_


	7. Chapter 7

Kal'reegar steps out into the sun. He rolls his neck, sighing as some of the tension eases out of his shoulders. Golden light cascades through the foliage, wavering gently as the wind rustles the leaves overhead. The migrant fleet ships squat in a ring around the clearing, one gunboat and three smaller shuttles. The shuttles' doors are opened, their insides cleared out and currently serving as shelters for the quarians. One of the shuttles has been re-purposed as a med center, and this is to where Kal now trudges.

The morning light is welcome after an eternity in dimness, but it draws his attention to something he was able to ignore before. The hairline crack in his visor has become an ugly spiderweb stretching from the top to the bottom of his visor on the left side, with a single strand reaching all the way across to his right.

He draws in a breath, stopping to trace a finger over the criss-cross of lines. _So close... How many chances do I get?_ Kal stands a moment longer, then shakes his head and strides off across the clearing.

After the initial confusion of the quarians' midnight landing, a group of marines had roped down from the gunship. Moving with practiced efficiency and the element of surprise, they had swiftly corralled the pirates into a corner of the clearing while the ships landed. Kal was rushed into the bridge of the gunship and rather forcefully debriefed about the events of the crash. Despite being rattled from the events of the past hour, he retained his soldier's discipline and gave the commanding officer, Commander Stefar'Zarra, a brief account of the last two days, minus the mysterious demise of Carson.

Once it was clear that there were no more quarians stranded on the planet Zarra seemed to relax slightly. He informed Kal that the Ierra had sent out a distress signal of its own, which had been picked up by the fleet. The admiralty board had decided it was time to put a stop to the string of disappearing ships, and, suspecting a mercenary base or slaver orbital platform, they had truly sent in the cavalry. Kal listened with raised eyebrows as Zarra told him two destroyers and seven more gunboats waited just out of orbit. The commander and his contingent of marines were a recon party, dispatched planet side when a personal distress signal had somehow reached the waiting ships. "The board's going to be pleased there's no larger threat lurking down here," Zarra had said. "They'll want to pat you on the back, too. You could have spared us a lot of casualties with that damn fool stunt of yours. From the looks of that ship, it wasn't going down from the outside without a fight."

"What of the Ierra?" Kal had demanded. "Did you get to her in time?"

The commander had told him that yes, the ship had been intercepted and was now docked within the destroyer _Deliiya_. According to the crew, the commanding officer, a certain Briel'Areya, had mustered the remaining forces and lead a decisive counter-attack, killing the remaining pirates and securing the ship with only one casualty. Kal thought back to the injured quarian he had last seen in the corridor of the Ierra, seconds before being defenestrated. He had known even at the time that the man's chances were slim, but news of his death hurt all the same. It always hurt.

With Kal's story told, it soon became clear that the commander didn't have much use for him. Unwilling to twiddle his thumbs for a day while tha marines prepared for departure, he had asked Zarra for something to do. Zarra had finally relented, assigning Kal guard duty for the captured pirates. Biting his tongue at the irony of the situation, Kal had turned to leave when Zarra added as an afterthought, "Oh, and get yourself down to the med center, Reegar. You look like three kinds of hell."

Kal had responded that he was fine, but Zarra had told him that that was an order. The commander had added with a hint of a smile that Kal would probably want to go down to shuttle three anyway, but he didn't say why.

Kal grimaces, rubbing his head as he plods across the grass. Of course the minute he had said he was fine everything had started to throb. Maybe the medic will just let him have some painkillers. His frown deepens as he remembers his job. He knows it's his own damn fault for asking for something to do, but he had hoped not to see his former captors again. _I suppose I don't have any choice now, _he thinks as he climbs the ramp into the open shuttle. _I'll just have to-_

Suddenly he stops dead, eyes fixed on a quarian woman in a medic's uniform standing with her back to him, typing into a console. _It can't be,_ he thinks, and then she turns to face him.

"Kal!" screams the woman, and before Kal can react she rushes forward and throws her arms around his neck.

Kal stiffens, at a loss for what to do. He gingerly places a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Lira," he says, trying to extricate his head from her choke-hold. "Um, what are you doing here?"

Lira pulls back, holding on to Kal by his shoulders. "Rescuing you! When I heard about the mission, I got myself transferred! Oh Keelah, I'm so glad to see you! I thought, I thought you might be..." A strangled sob emerges from behind her mask, and she presses her head against Kal's chest.

Feeling immensely awkward, Kal puts his arms around her. "I'm... I'm glad to see you, too," he says.

Lira looks up at him, tears gone and suddenly all business. She reaches up to touch the crack in his visor, then pulls her hand away, seeming to think better of it. "Oh, that's nasty. I take it the glass is still holding?"

"The suit's saying there's no breach," answers Kal. "I know you don't have any extras with you, and I'll be fine until we get back to the fleet."

"I wouldn't risk taking the visor out now anyway," says Lira. "Not without a clean room. It might shatter out of the pressure seals. I guess that means," she says coyly, tracing a finger down his arm. "That I'll just have to wait..."

Kal coughs louder than necessary. "I, uh, that is, do you have any painkillers? There was a bit of a, uh, well, I got knocked in the head a bit."

"Of course I do, silly. This is a battlefield med center." She turns away, searching through a locker in the wall. A moment later she cries out triumphantly, returning to Kal with a small orange tube. "Here. Take one dose of this every six hours. It'll stop the pain, but..." She pauses, drawing closer and letting her voice drop an octave. "You should really be examined more thoroughly. Just to make sure you aren't... Damaged."

"Yeah?" says Kal. "Know any good doctors?"

"I might," murmurs Lira, and her hand is sliding down his side to his hip. "But I think you already have her address. You should come by when you get topside. If you're not busy crashing pirate ships into planets, that is."

Kal pulls away slowly, doing his best to seem reluctant. "I'll see what I can do. Now I gotta go, though. Zarra put me on guard duty."

Lira leans against the doorway, offering what Kal knows she knows is a flattering profile. "Seeya later, soldier boy," she says, giving him a fluttery wave.

Kal nods, then turns and beats a hasty retreat to the other side of the clearing. It's not that he doesn't like Lira; she's kind, friendly, and outgoing. _Everything I'm not,_ he thinks with a bitter smile. Kal had met her a few months previous at a dance while he had been on leave. She had dragged him to his feet and more or less forced him to dance, which was pretty much how their relationship had continued from there on. They had exchanged emails; or rather, Lira had sent him essays and he had sent her sentences in reply. They had met in person many times over the last few months too, usually at her prompting. Kal had always been willing though; Lira was the kind of woman most marines dreamed of meeting, and she seemed to be infatuated with him.

During their somewhat one-sided conversations, she had poured out an ocean of endless details about herself, some of which Kal had absorbed by osmosis. He himself contributed little, which seemed to be enough. He often felt like a ship lost at sea at times like this, unsure where he was or what to do next, content to follow her lead.

It isn't that he doesn't like her. There's just something about the whole situation that makes him feel... Uneasy. It's never hard for him to feel aroused by her, and as far as their few sexual encounters went, everything happened at the appropriate time and with quite spectacular results. It was in the moments after and in the times between though, when she would whisper in is ear or hold his hand, when he could feel her probing beneath his skin, trying to connect to him somehow. Those were the moments when he felt just a little uncomfortable, like some unseen thing was amiss, but beyond his power to put right.

_But not this time,_ he thinks firmly. _This time I'm going to make things better. She deserves it. I know she deserves it. _His path takes him across the clearing and around the back of the gunship. At the edge of the forest the pirates sit together in sullen silence, deprived of their weapons and watched over by three quarian soldiers. As Kal approaches the marines, the man nearest to him turns and gives him a questioning look.

"Kal'Reegar vas Ierra," says Kal by way of introduction. "Zarra sent me down here to help you out."

"Yes, that's right. We heard about you, you know. You sure you shouldn't be resting?"

Kal shakes his head. "Gotta keep moving. You know how it is."

The marine nods. "Yeah, I feel you." He reaches to his belt, unclipping a standard-issue pistol. "Here," he says, offering the weapon to Kal. "Any of these bastards moves, shoot 'em in the leg. And if you happen to miss and hit 'em between the eyes by accident, no-one's gonna be too upset."

Kal takes the pistol, stowing it at his hip. He feels more balanced with the weight of the gun hanging at his side, more like himself. He strides to the very edge of the clearing, on the far side of the group of prisoners. He leans his shoulder against a tree, his eyes traveling over the pirates. Most of them are looking the worse for wear. Some had tried to resist the marines, and they had not been treated gently. Despite the quarians' hatred for pirates, medigel had been dispensed to those with serious injuries, albeit sparingly.

While most of the humans have drawn into a cluster, whispering amongst themselves, Kal recognizes the gray-armored turian sitting away from the group. Darius's eyes are closed, and he sits cross-legged with his hands on his knees, seemingly tranquil. _There's something strange about that one,_ ponders Kal. _I've never seen a turian biotic before, either. _His train of thought is interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Well, I suppose this is it," says James from behind a tree to Kal's left.

Kal scowls, craning his neck as he tries to get a view of the human. "Come out from there," he commands. "Are you trying to get yourself shot?"

"I think I'll stay put, thanks," replies James. "It's shady over here, and I'm not about to run into the woods. Not after what happened to Carson. Besides," he adds, the impression of a smirk in his voice. "I can't see your uniform from here. It gives me headaches."

"There's nothing wrong with my uniform," mutters Kal.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of all that red."

_He might have saved my life, but I still can't stand him, _Kal thinks to himself. _At least it's only for a few more hours. Then he's gone for good._

James seems to have similar thoughts. He clears his throat, then says in a more serious tone, "What's going to happen to me, Kal? I don't know your laws. I have no idea what's coming."

"Well, maybe you should have read up on quarian law before you decided to break it," retorts Kal. "How many of our ships did you attack? We only know about two of them, but once we analyze your ship's ion signature it won't take long to find out."

"Two of them?" says James, sounding genuinely puzzled. "What do you mean, 'two of them?'"

"We know about the Valsai. You shot her down two weeks ago. She was an unarmed resource gatherer with a civilian crew. But I suppose you wouldn't care much about that. Probably just saw her as an easy target, huh?"

"No, Kal, you're wrong," says James. "The only quarian ship we attacked was yours, and that was only because you dropped out of FTL practically on top of us. We were heading to the relay, but Vin said it was too good of an opportunity to miss. We weren't there two weeks ago."

"Really," says Kal. "So you're saying one of our ships just vanished, and the pirate vessel we found at their exact coordinates had nothing to do with it."

"You don't have to believe me," says James. "We can prove it. Two weeks ago our ship was docked on Omega. Someone in that floating slum has got to be keeping records."

"Hmm. Well, it should make for an interesting case then," says Kal dismissively. "We leave for the fleet at dawn. You'll all be subject to a fair trial. If I have any luck, I won't be called on to testify."

"But I helped you every step of the way," cries James. "That's got to count for something!"

"Look," says Kal, his voice stony. "You saved my ass last night, and for that I'm grateful. But you're a pirate, a thief and a murderer just like every one of your crew. You're no different from them, and I don't trust any of you. That's just how it is."

…

The rest of the day passes in silence. The gentle breeze and warm sunlight gradually calm Kal's nerves a little. Looking around at the peaceful forest, the horrific scene of the past day seems like nothing more than a nightmare to Kal. He puts the image from his mind, trying to focus instead on Lira and the promise he made to her. The sun sinks below the treetops, casting an orange shimmer over the wrecked ship in the distance. A fresh group of guards come to relieve them, and Kal makes his way to one of the shuttles, where bunks have been set up. One has been reserved for him, and as soon as he shuts his eyes he falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

…

Kal awakes to the sound of pounding footsteps and shouting. He groggily pushes himself up from his bedroll, blinking the bleariness away from his eyes. The inside of the transport is in pandemonium as marines mill around, everyone attempting to be heard above everybody else. Kal gets to his feet, moaning softly as his head throbs in protest. He pulls out the tube of medicinal paste and, with some fumbling, gets it attached to his helmet's applicator for long enough to take a dose. He pockets the tube, and as the pain in his head begins to ease away, he strides into the middle of the group of marines. He shoots out an arm, grabbing the nearest man by his suit's straps and pulling him close. "Tell me," Kal growls in the man's ear. "What the hell is going on here."

"It's the, well, ah, we don't know what it is!" stammers the marine. "The engineers are working on it, but they don't-"

"What is it that is the problem here?" Kal roars over the clamor.

"It's the ships!" says the marine. "They won't take off, and no-one knows why!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The hatchway to the gunship's bridge is open, and inside a hurried counsel is taking place. Kal storms into the room, brushing aside the weak protest of a passing technician. At the for end of the bridge Commander Zarra stands before a hologram of a quarian who wears the uniform of a captain. Kal pushes past another technician who is so busy typing into a datapad he barely looks up. Kal steps into the range of the holocomm unit, and the captain looks up at him, or rather at the life-sized projection of Kal that just appeared at his end. "Ahh, Kal'Reegar," says the captain coolly. "Allow me to commend you on your seemingly limitless vitality. Rest assured, the fleet has been notified of your-"

"What the hell is going on here?" demands Kal, his already low levels of patience decreasing rapidly. After a moment of chilly silence he remembers himself and adds, "Sir."

Commander Zarra turns to him. "The ships are caught in some kind of gravity well. Even at full power, the engines are useless. We had to shut them down, or the drive cores would have melted." His voice is weary, and Kal wonders whether the man slept the previous night. "We've had engineers looking at it for the past hour," continues the commander. "Captain Iessel has his ships running scans too."

"We launched several probes at the planet," says the captain. "They were all pulled into the atmosphere immediately, even though their trajectories should have had them safely in orbit. Your own ships were pulled in in a similar manner, although their thrusters allowed them to make a controlled landing."

Kal thinks fast. "That doesn't sound like natural interference. Have you checked comm channels?"

The captain's hologram nods its head. "Yes, we thought of that. We checked, but no-one's broadcasting on any open channels. There's no communications interference either." Iessel seems to anticipate Kal's next question, answering it before Kal can ask. "We can't get close enough to do a scan of the surface. There could be an emitter of some kind causing the gravity well, but we're too far away to know for sure."

"Whatever it is, it's strong," says Zarra. "If it could pull down half a cargo ship, it'll have no trouble with our cruisers."

"That's what the fleet is saying," agrees the captain. "As far as reinforcements go, you're on your own. Shut off whatever's causing the gravity well though, and it'll be a different story."

Kal turns to Zarra. "Do we have the gear to do a thermal scan?"

Zarra nods. "It's going to take some time to set up the relays, but I think we can make something work."

"There may still be survivors from the Valsai down there," says Iessel. "It's unlikely, but possible. Your orders are to extract them with minimal casualties. In the event of a hostile force, you are authorized to engage with lethal force as neccissary." The captain raises his hand to deactivate the comm unit, but pauses. "Oh, and commander," he adds, his voice dropping a tone. "One more order, from me to you. When you find the bastards, kill them all."

Zarra nods grimly. "Aye, sir."

The hologram flickers out of existence. The commander turns away from the holocomm, massaging his shoulders. He seems to sag a little, and he looks silently at the deck for a moment. Then he straightens up, striding out of the room. "Engineers, come with me," he calls back. Kal follows too, unwilling to miss anything.

The commander steps out of the gunship into the clearing. Kal walks down the ramp behind him, and is surprised to see most of the quarian contingent clustered around the end of the ramp, soldiers and technicians alike. Zarra addresses them, his accented voice taking on a strong, confident tone. He seems a very different man from the one Kal saw a few minutes ago inside the bridge. "This is the story. This planet is surrounded by a gravity well. This is what brought down the Valsai, and would have done the same to the Ierra if not for the actions of Kal'Reegar." His tone changes, taking on a calculated inflection of anger. "The Valsai was a resource trawler, carrying a civilian crew. Their vessel was unarmed, and they were defenseless. _We _are not defenseless! We are _marines_, and whoever is behind this just bit off a hell of a lot more than they can chew."

Kal can't see the marines' faces, but he can guess by their posture and body language that the commander has their complete loyalty.

"Who's my head engineer here?" asks Zarra.

"Here, sir," calls a female quarian, stepping forward and giving a smart salute. "Kiera'Laros, sir!"

"Laros, gather every technician we've got and meet me in the bridge. Everyone else, stand ready. Once we find the emitter, we're going in. Be ready." The commander turns back to the ship and begins walking back up the ramp.

"Wait!" calls Kal, starting after him. The commander turns, and Kall adds, "Sir. What can I do? I know I'm not technically under your command, but I'm not sitting around here while the sons of bitches who attacked my ship are-"

"Easy, easy," says Zarra, holding up his hands. "You'll be included in the attack. You have more of a right to it than any of us, and frankly I could use any extra hands I can get. Right now though, if you really want to be useful than just keep an eye on the pirates." He must be able to sense the look on Kal's face, because his tone softens and he says, "It's really not just to keep you busy, Reegar. The last thing we need right now is an attack from within our own camp. You're a capable soldier, and I'd feel much more comfortable if I knew you were watching my back."

So Kal rips off a salute and makes his way around the back of the gunship, swallowing his displeasure at having to spend yet another day in the company of the pirates. Dark clouds crawl across the sky, and a low wind is blowing through the camp as Kal approaches the edge of the clearing. A flimsy awning has been erected, under which most of the prisoners are sprawled.

No-one other than Darius, the only dextro-amino acid based life form in the group, would be able to eat the quarians' food. Some of the pirates' provisions remained however, and having been confiscated earlier, they were now being distributed evenly twice a day.

Kal sits down in the grass nearby the group of prisoners, resting his back on a tree trunk. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting the cool breeze wash over him. He catches himself wondering again if this is what the home world was like, before the war. _Sometimes,_ he thinks, letting his thoughts wander with the wind. _Sometimes I wonder whose fault it really is. The geth, they're just these calculating machines. It was us who were the dumb bastards that got scared and started the damn war. Got ourselves kicked off our own damn planet, and for what? _He looks around sleepily. Leaves rustle gently as their branches sway back and forth, dancing to a music he can't hear. Everything around him feels strange and alien, but beneath that runs a current of comfort and _rightness_. _People weren't meant to live on spaceships. We're supposed to be in places like this. We're not robots like the geth. We're animals. _He closes his eyes again, running his gloved fingers through the grass.

A sudden noise breaks Kal's reverie. His eyes snap open, zeroing in on the source of the disturbance. On the other side of the makeshift jail, two of the humans stand face to face, shouting at each other. As Kal watches, the quarian guard nearest to them steps forward, calling to the prisoners to step away from each other. The humans ignore him, and as the quarian moves closer, one of the shouting prisoners turns abruptly and thrusts his hand into the quarian's side. He pulls away, revealing a tiny knife in his fist. The guard staggers, a dark red stain already blossoming on his suit. Everything is suddenly chaos. The pirate stabs the quarian again, driving the knife into his stomach, and Kal is already in motion.

He leaps up and charges across the clearing, making straight for man with the knife. More guards close in on the prisoners, brandishing assault rifles. Warning shots are fired, and Kal hears the soldiers screaming orders to lie down on the ground. Ahead of him, the man with the knife catches sight of Kal. His eyes widen, and pulling his bloody weapon free, he turns and makes a break for the trees.

Somewhere behind him, someone calls for Kal to get out of the damn way, but he doesn't slow down. He feels the pounding, fiery feeling begin to build up, pushing him forward and tinging the edges of his vision with red. The same rage he felt in the turret overtakes him again, and he puts on extra speed. The human looks over his shoulder franticly as they enter the trees, which proves to be a mistake. His foot catches on a root and he falls heavily, and suddenly Kal is almost on top of him.

The man has somehow managed to hold on to his knife, and he twists, slashing out desperately at Kal. Kal kicks the weapon away, and then as the man tries to get up, Kal plants a foot on his back. The human squirms, Fingers clawing awkwardly at Kal's boot. Kal grabs the man's forearm, and with a growl of anger and exertion, he yanks back hard, pushing with his foot as a fulcrum. The arm snaps with a resounding _crack_, and Kal grins as the man screams. His other hand scrabbles vainly at Kal. Kal raises his boot briefly, but before the man can stand Kal brings his foot down on his hand with a rewarding _crunch_.

The red mist is still wrapped around him, urging him to destroy this man, to tear him apart into a million pieces. It screams for blood, and with difficulty Kal forces it down into the pit of his stomach. He reaches to his side, unholstering the pistol. The weapon unlocks, and Kal slips his finger into the trigger guard. He brings the barrel down quickly, leveling it with the base of the pirate's skull, then fires twice.

The rage inside him dies down almost immediately, leaving him shaking and cold. He slips the gun back into its spot on his belt, stepping away from the body of the pirate. Someone is patting his shoulder. He looks up, blinking.

A quarian soldier stands next to him, looking at him intently. "Are you okay?" she asks.

Kal nods silently.

"He didn't get you? Your suit's good?"

Kal nods again, breathing in deeply through his nose. "Yeah," he says finally. "How's the guy he stabbed? It looked bad."

"He's being taken to the med center," replies the soldier. "You wanna go check on him? I'll get some people down here to bag this up," she says, motioning to the dead pirate with her boot.

Kal heads for the drop shuttle on the other side of the clearing that's currently serving as a medical center. Inside the shuttle, the injured guard is already lying on a cot, pressure bandages wrapped around his midsection. Kal looks questioningly to the medic on duty, a shorter quarian man. "How is he?"

"Fine," answers the medic shortly. "Well, obviously not fine," he adds. "But for a person who has just been stabbed, he's perfect. We put him out right away, so no shock. The bandages will seal up his suit, and if needed we have an IV ready to pump him full of a thousand and one antibiotics."

Kal lets out a sigh of relief. "Great. When I saw him take a hit in the stomach, I-"

The medic shakes his head. "It hit a rib, actually. No internal organ trauma. Although, if you hadn't gotten there when you did, it could well have been a different story."

Kal smiles behind his visor, a bit of happiness sneaking into him. He frowns suddenly, noticing something. "Hold on. Where's Lira? She wouldn't want to miss this."

"Hmm, yes," the doctor says hesitantly. "She, ah, left. Abruptly. You might want to check the crew's quarters."

…

Inside the gunship, it doesn't take Kal long to find the crew's bunks. There are two communal rooms, and one of them has been locked from the inside. Kal stops outside the locked portal and clears his throat. Nervousness twists his stomach, and he shifts from foot to foot. He shakes his head, chastising himself. _Come on Kal. Pull yourself together. _"Lira?" he calls. "Are you in there?"

A moment of silence passes, then a voice replies from behind the door. "What do you want, Kal?"

Kal pauses, bewildered. "Uh, the medic said you took off all of a sudden. Are you, um, alright?"

There's a sniff from behind the door. "I'm fine, Kal," says Lira in a quavering voice. "But I don't think you are."

Kal frowns, warning lights going off in his head. "Why," he says guardedly. "What's the problem?"

"Don't pretend you don't know! Do I think I didn't see?"

"Lira, please," sighs Kal. "Just tell me what you're upset about."

"I'm not upset!" cries the voice from behind the door. Kal thinks he can hear a muffled sob. "It's _you,_ Kal," Lira says. I watched you kill that man."

"Lira, I'm a soldier!' Kal explodes. "What do you expect me to-"

"He was _helpless_, Kal! You beat him, but you didn't stop! You should have seen yourself. It looked like you were_ enjoying _hurting him. Like it was _fun_."

Kal clenches his teeth, trying to control his exasperation. "It's not ... Like that," he forces out.

"How am I supposed to know?" demands Lira. "You're not acting like yourself, Kal. It's like you're so emotionless, and cold, and I don't know what to do! You scare me sometimes, you know that? It's like you're somebody else lately. Somebody I don't even know."

"Well, you don't know _me_ very well," retorts Kal, fed up with this conversation. _Why's she overreacting like this?_ He wonders. _Where did all this come from?_

A little while passes with nothing but the collisional sniffle from behind the locked door, then finally Lira speaks again, her voice steady and sad. "No, you're right. I _don't_ know you very well at all, Kal, and I don't think you'll ever give me the chance to." She takes a deep breath, then continues. "It's not just this, not just today. It's all the time, Kal. I'm trying, I know I'm trying, and I don't know if you're not or if you just can't."

"You don't understand," says Kal. He thinks of the promise he made earlier. "I-"

"I _don't_ understand! And it's not my fault! It's like you have this invisible wall that you won't let me through. You think I don't notice that whenever we're together you're not really there? I can see it in your eyes, Kal. You're a million miles away, and I can't reach you!"

Kal sucks in a breath through his nose, trying his best to calm down. "Lira," he says, forcing his voice to stay level. "I … I know I haven't been the best partner you could ask for, but I've been thinking about it. I can change for you, I can make this work!"

Another sob. "It's too late, Kal. It's too little, too late. It's been like this for a long time now. I thought it would change at first, but I stopped thinking that a while ago. You see Kal, I know you can't change. This is how you are, and maybe you'll try, but you'll never be anything else. I only stayed with you for so long because I pitied you, I felt sorry for you! I still do, but I just can't do this anymore!" She begins to cry softly.

The anxiety in Kal's stomach twists, slowly turning into anger. "You feel sorry for _me_?" he yells at the closed door. "I don't want your pity! And you know what, I don't want _you_ either! I was doing this for you, but you couldn't even see that! You think there's something wrong with me, you think I didn't try? I don't need to change! I just don't care about you anymore!" He feels the rage licking at his insides like flames, and he doesn't try to control it. Kal turns on his heel and strides down the hall and out of the gunship, not stopping when he reaches the edge of the clearing. Instead, he picks up his pace, breaking into a run as he leaves the camp behind. Leaves and branches whip at him and sticks snap under his feet, and he runs until his sides burn and he gasps for breath.

Kal slows down at last, staggering to a halt and trying to catch his breath. He leans his head against a tree. Around him the forest looks just like it does everywhere else, so he closes his eyes, listening to the sound of his pulse in his ears. He doesn't know why he ran, doesn't know what he was trying to outrun. He just needed to run, needed to _go_. He draws in a deep breath, pulling his scattered thoughts together. They glitter like stones on a riverbed, just out of his reach and hidden beneath waves of emotion. _Why_ is in there, and maybe _How. Why the hell did this happen_ is the question he wants to ask, but he knows the answer. _You knew it would end like this,_ he reminds himself. _You saw this coming._ _Do I care? Of course I care. She was my girlfriend._

_ No,_ says a nasty voice inside him. _She was a shallow bitch and you never liked her. You're glad she's gone. You fucked it up on purpose, and here's your reward. _

Kal grimaces, pressing his forehead harder against the tree. _No no no,_ he yells internally. _I _wanted _ it to work, I _tried_! I could have really had feelings for her, I just ... just didn't. _Another question floats through his mind, but he can't see the answer clearly. _Is she right? Is there something wrong with me? _He forces himself to think, to make the shouting voices inside him shut up for a second. The problem is, the more he listens to his doubts the more he starts to believe them. _Lira's a beautiful woman, Kal. Well, maybe not beautiful, but pretty enough for anyone. She's kind, too, and maybe not the most interesting woman in the galaxy but she's damn well good enough for you. Too good, maybe._ _So why is it that no matter how hard I try I can't feel anything for her?_

He opens his eyes, pushing himself angrily away from the tree trunk. "Fuck it," he says to himself. He says it again, loudly and to the whole planet. Silence answers him, pressing in on all sides. Kal shivers, suddenly filled with the eerie feeling of being watched. He shakes his head. _I've had enough of this damn world. The sooner we can get back to the fleet the better._

He turns back, following his path back towards the jutting metal tower of the shipwreck.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: There may not be another chapter for two more weeks, as I'm going to be quite busy for the rest of the month. I'll try to get one in when I can though, it may just take a while. And now...**

**Chapter 9**

The crouching form of the gunship comes into view as Kal emerges from the forest, its armored flanks gray against a gray sky. He looks upward, where a swift wind blows clouds over and under each other, a swirling, colorless pool hanging above the clearing. A darkness is growing to the east, a wall of black crawling nearer across the sky. A single raindrop splashes against Kal's visor, its trail vanishing on the glass's frictionless coating.

He rounds the ship, pausing at the sight awaiting him in the center of the clearing. A group of quarians is gathered there, commander Zarra at their center. The are speaking in hushed tones, but every now and then a voice will rise angrily. The commander looks up, and seeing Kal he waves him over.

"Where have you been?" demands Zarra when Kal is within earshot. "Never mind," says the commander without giving Kal time to reply. "You should be here for this. We're organizing a search party."

"Why?" asks Kal apprehensively. "What happened?"

"We've been attacked," answers a marine in a dark blue and black suit. His voice is more heavily accented than most quarians', and he speaks angrily. "One of our sentries on the northern side disappeared ten minutes ago. There's a clear enough trail, but every minute we waste talking it gets colder." This last remark is directed at Zarra, who nods.

"I agree. I'll send six in the search party. Find out what happened. Retrieve our man if you can, but if the situation is out of hand don't engage. Come back here and we'll send more men."

"I'll go with the party," says Kal.

"That's up to lieutenant Gairn," says Zarra. He looks to the blue-suited quarian.

Gairn shakes his head. "No. I've selected my squad, all men I know and trust. The last thing I need is an outsider."

Zarra claps him on the shoulder. "Go then. Keelah se'lai."

Gairn nods grimly, then turns and departs from the group. Five of the marines follow him, jogging around the corner of a drop ship and out of sight.

Zarra turns to Kal. "Come on. I'm setting the rest of our men on guard duty around the clearing. As of now, we're all on high alert."

Kal follows him to the edge of the clearing, where the rest of the marines are waiting. Zarra orders them to spread out, forming a perimeter around the encampment. Kal is positioned on the southwest side, where he has a clear view of the gunship. A group of engineers walks back and forth over its roof, passing boxes of parts back and forth.

The day stretches on, time passing unmarked without the sun to use as reference. The wind picks up, blowing sticks and leaves across the grass, whistling through the trees as they bend and sway. All trace of the forest's earlier peace is gone, and its sight now only fills Kal with a sense of deep foreboding. He tries not to think back to Carson's body, tries not to speculate as to what might have killed the human. _Anything could be out there,_ he thinks gloomily. _We're blind here. _A curse drifts down to him from the top of the gunship. Kal looks up to see a winding bundle of cables dangling down over the side of the ship. Sparks fly from behind an open panel on the ship's top, and a pair of engineers are assembling a large metal dish.

More scattered drops of rain fall as the sky darkens with evening, and the filaments in Kal's suit turn on, warming him against the growing chill. He downs the rest of his pain killers, fighting off drowsiness. Countless thoughts assail him, but none he wishes to dwell on. Lira's anger and condescending pity; the voice of James, full of injured, misplaced trust; Carson's grinning face, slick white bone shining through torn flesh. He forces the thoughts away, forcing his mind into an almost meditative blankness. He stares out at the dark shapes of the trees, thinking nothing, feeling nothing but a dull pain deep within him.

…

James looks out at the forest. The trees are full of shadows, moving and shifting with the wind. What they hide he can't know, but looking at them he feels the weight of fear in the pit of his stomach. He stretches his leg out, testing it gently. The bone seems to have almost entirely healed, giving him only a faint twinge when he stands on it.

He raises his eyes to the gunship, where quarians are scurrying back and forth, working feverishly on something. Around the ship's corner, distant and half hidden by shadow, he sees a red-suited figure. James quickly looks away, dropping his gaze to the grass. A breeze blows through the clearing, cutting through James's tattered clothing and sending shivers through his body. He draws his knees up to his chest and closes his eyes, wondering at how things can go so wrong so quickly.

…

The first gray light of dawn has broken over the camp when Gairn's squad returns. Kal is roused from his bed roll in the drop ship by a cry from the northern lookout. He forces himself upright, his body aching all over. He was relieved from his post only a few hours earlier, and it seems like seconds as he wearily pushes himself to his feet, stumbling out of the ship and into the dim early morning.

A group of marines is clustered at the northern edge of the clearing. Kal blinks muzzily. _They weren't in Gairn's party. What... What's going on?_

As he strides toward the group a pair of medics rush by, bearing a stretcher and a box of equipment. They set the stretcher down by the group of marines, which quickly parts to make way for them. Kal lengthens his stride, still unable to make sense of what is happening. The medics are loading a body onto the stretcher. As Kal approaches he recognizes the injured man as one of Gairn's marines. A row of three deep gashes runs up the man's right arm from his wrist to his shoulder, and the right side of his facemask is smashed, his face beneath the shattered glass deathly pale.

One of the medics is wrapping a bandage tightly around the marine's shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "He might loose the arm," Kal hears him mutter to the other medic.

"Doesn't matter," chokes out the marine. "Can't move it anymore. It—nghh!" He grunts as the medic pulls the bandage tightly around the injured limb. "It happened so fast," he continues shakily. "So fast. We never had time to f-f-fight it." His voice trails off, and Kal hears him whisper faintly. "So cold. It's so cold."

Commander Zarra appears, drawing breathlessly up to the side of the stretcher. He bends over the injured marine, ignoring the disapproving medics. "What happened?" he asks firmly. "Where's your squad?"

"We got separated," says the soldier. He coughs, his breath wheezing in his chest. "We—there was a—it killed them. I don't know how many. It happened so... so fast..."

"A what?" demands Zarra, his hands tightening on the side of the stretcher. "_What_ killed them?"

The marine's eyes drift upward, and his voice sounds far away. "Tell... Tell Ariana I'm sorry. I... I wanted to be there." His eyes close slowly. His body shakes convulsively. "So cold," he murmurs. "Why is it so cold?"

"He's losing blood fast," says one of the medics. "We have to get him inside, we have blood in the-"

"Go," says Zarra, stepping back from the stretcher. The medics wheel it away, hastily pushing it back to the medical center. Zarra takes a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. "Who is Ariana?" he asks.

"His wife," offers one of the marines. "She just had a child," he continues, more softly. "His tour was over in two weeks. He was always telling us how he was looking forward to holding his son. He said he had had enough violence for a lifetime. Said he just wanted to be a father."

"He may still live," says Zarra, but without much conviction.

Kal turns away from the group, his heart heavy and his head pounding with questions. _What did that to him? Was it the same thing that killed Carson? _Over his shoulder he hears Zarra giving orders to double the guards, to remain vigilant. _As if we need reminding,_ thinks Kal bitterly. _But Gairn's squad was vigilant. It didn't help them much._

Kal wanders through the camp for a few minutes, eyes unseeing as his mind works over the implications of what just happened. Eventually he runs into the commander.

"Reegar," he calls. "I need you back at your post."

"I don't like this," says Kal. "We shouldn't just be _sitting_ here, we should _do_ something! You saw what happened to Gairn's squad."

"That's exactly why we _can't_ run in there blind," counters Zarra. "We have to wait for the sensor array. We could wander around in that forest for days without finding anything, and the whole time we would be at the mercy of whatever has been killing our men."

Kal takes a shaky breath, making himself calm down. "Yes, sir," he says more evenly. "Permission to ask a question?"

The commander chuckles. "Damn, Reegar," he says. "I wasn't aware you asked permission for anything. Fine, ask away."

"What do you think killed them?"

The commander pauses, and when he speaks his tone is grave. "I don't know. One thing is for sure though, it wasn't any known mercenary group."

"What about Bloodpack?"

"No. Vorcha aren't that savage, and the marks are all wrong for it to have been a varren. Varren attack with their teeth, but what we saw were the claw marks of something much bigger, possibly man sized or larger."

Kal nods, his own suspicions confirmed. "I guess we'll just have to wait for the engineers then."

"Laros tells me the array should be operational by this evening. We'll hold out until then." The commander's voice is confident, but behind his words Kal can read the unspoken meaning. _We'll hold out because we have to._

"You'll get us through, sir," says Kal.

The commander looks at him for a moment, almost sadly, then he turns and strides toward the gunship, shoulders back and head held high. For the first time Kal has an inkling of the terrible burden the man carries, and he turns away, determined not to let it grow heavier.

…

The rain begins to fall around mid afternoon. The pirates huddle together under the sagging awning, talking in hushed tones and shooting the occasional wary glance at the two quarians standing guard a few paces away. James lies in the grass, staring up at the dull green fabric overhead and listening to the patter of the raindrops. There was no attempt to include him in whatever conspiracy the pirates are conducting, and James is secretly relieved that they are ignoring him.

His eyes wander to the other side of the shelter, where Darius sits alone as well. The turian biotic hasn't spoken since the sudden appearance of the quarians. He sits with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap, his eyes shut and his face blank. James doesn't know what sort of things are going on inside the turian's head, but Darius doesn't seem to care much about the rest of the world.

James sighs and turns his head, looking out at the darkened clearing as the rain pours down, splashing off the gunship and running in streams down the edge of the awning. A makeshift roof has been erected on top of the gunship, and beneath it welders flash blue against the shadows, silhouetting the engineers stooped over the slowly forming sensor dish.

An undercurrent of distress and tension seems to be running through the quarian soldiers, although as to what exactly might be happening James can only guess. He blinks as a gust of wind splashes him with water droplets. When he opens his eyes again, James suddenly realizes how dark the clearing has become. Behind him, the wind howls through the trees. James shivers and looks around him reflexively, but all he sees is shadows.

…

Kal shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably. He knows his suit is water resistant, but he swears he can still feel the damp. Fancy coatings and filaments aren't the same as a roof over your head, and Kal shivers despite himself as the rain picks up, hammering against his visor and streaming off the contours of his face mask.

He thinks again of Lira, considers seeking her out and trying to force her to speak to him. He knows it's no use though. She has walked by his position once already, and her only response to his calls was to stiffen her shoulders and hurry away. It's clear that she means to ignore him, and nothing he can do or say will make a difference.

_Damn hypocritical,_ he thinks, not without a trace of bitter irony. _She tells me I'm shutting her out, then she won't listen to me when I try to fix it._ He sighs gloomily, staring blankly at the drenched scenery. _She doesn't want to hear it because she doesn't want me to try to fix anything. She had that whole speech prepared for weeks, I'm sure of it. She's so _sure _of how things are that she would rather be right than have them get better._

Just beneath the surface of his consciousness is the idea that he never _was_ happy with her, that he _couldn't_ have been, but he's too tired to think about it.

All traces of fatigue vanish when he hears the gunshots.

…

James is lying with his eyes closed, halfway to sleep when something hits him in the arm. He grunts, brushing at the spot and willing the comfortable blackness not to evaporate. Another rock hits him in the side, harder this time. James winces in pain and sits up, blinking. A few meters away, several of the pirates are staring at him. _Ahh, shit,_ he thinks resignedly.

The pirate closer to him, presumably the man who threw the rock, speaks first. "You been listenin' to us, Jamey?" There's a hint of danger in his tone.

James shrugs, doing his best to seem casual. "Nah, I was trying to sleep. You talking about anything interesting?"

The stone-thrower turns to his friends. "Are we talking about anything interesting? Boys, he wants to know if we're talkin' about anythin' interestin'." He laughs, then turns back to James, his false good humor replaced by an angry scowl. "What did you hear, Jamie?"

"Nothing. I told you, I was sleeping!" James tries to keep the panic out of his voice. _Fuck, I know where this is going..._

Stone-thrower inches closer, his eyes locked on James's. "I don't _think _you heard nothing. I _think_ you been listening to us the whole time. That's what _I _think, Jamie. You tellin' me I'm stupid or something?"

_Yes,_ thinks James. _And stop calling me Jamie, you idiotic redneck._ Out loud, he says, "Look, I didn't hear anything, okay? What does it matter, anyway?" Even as he says it he knows there's no right answer.

Confirming his fears, the pirate sits back on his haunches, looking at James with calculated malevolence. "Well, I think you _did_, Jamie-boy, and I think what you're gonna do is tell your alien boyfriend all about it. But we can't have that. Oh no. It just won't do."

James laughs nervously, spreading his hands. "Look, you can't attack me here! There are guards watching, you-"

"Not for long there won't be," confides the pirate. James glances to the two quarian guards, but the sound of the rain masks their conversation completely. "Now, we're not ready just yet," continues the stone thrower. "We're just waiting on a few things. But if I see you move one inch, we'll take our chances. And you, Jamie boy, will be watering the grass. With your _blood_," the pirate clarifies, and it's all James can do not to roll his eyes.

The man turns to his comrades, who are watching James suspiciously. "Now," he says, his voice hushed. "What have we got?"

One of the pirates reaches into his boot. "Two knives," he says. "And a-"

"Idiot!" hisses stone-thrower, grabbing the man's wrist. "Don't take it out! That's our distraction, if they see it we're fucked!"

"Sorry," mumbles the man, hastily shoving whatever it is back into his boot.

"Alright," continues stone-thrower, running a hand through his hair. "That'll take care of the guards. As soon as we get into the woods, I don't want any every-man-for-himself bullshit. We stick together, got that?"

"What about him?" asks one of the pirates, jerking his head toward James. "Maybe we should waste him, too. Just to be safe."

Stone-thrower looks thoughtful. "Yeah, you know what, I'll do it. Get ready, get back and tell-" Stone-thrower suddenly freezes. "Shh!" he commands, pressing a finger to his lips. "You hear that?"

James strains his ears, but all he can hear is the consistent beat of the rain on the awning. Then he feels the skin prickle all down the back of his neck. From within the forest not a hundred meters away there comes a low growl. Deeper than the call of any animal he's ever seen, the growl rolls through the group of men like slow thunder, and James feels goosebumps raise on his arms at the sound. One of the quarians looks up, and through the rain James hears an accented voice say: "Did you-"

Then the night erupts in flashes of white and blue, and his ears are full of the sound of gunfire and a terrible, unearthly roar that cuts through his body and sets his teeth rattling in his skull. The guard is screaming, and James sees in the flash like frames of a movie a writhing black form, its body wrapped around the struggling quarian. The screaming dies, and as the other guard yells incoherently and his gun flashes, a frozen image is burned into James's eyes of the black creature as it pulls away, blood flying from the quarian's throat.

As the monster breaks away from the body, the spell hanging over the watching pirates is broken. Screaming fills the clearing, and James sees men fleeing unchallenged into the woods. Stone-thrower grabs his friend by the shoulder. "How's that for a distraction?" he shouts over the chaos. "Come on!" With that, he pulls a small pack from the ground and dashes off without a backwards glance.

The other pirate looks around franticly. As James watches, he reaches into his boot, pulling out a small silver cylinder. He turns back toward the camp and raises his arm as if to throw it, but a stray bullet catches him in the arm. The pirate drops the cylinder and clutches his elbow, howling in pain. He looks around one last time, then staggers away into the trees.

James pushes himself backwards, eyes wide in shock. He looks around mutely, unable to comprehend what is happening. The clearing is filled with noise, gun shots, men screaming, and worse. James thinks he can hear the sound of something tearing, wet and visceral. As he sits frozen, something flies by his face, landing with a thud in the shadows. Something warm sprays across his face and he recoils, horror-struck. Horrified fascination pulls his eyes to the thing against his will. It is a hand, the shining bone of the wrist joint protruding through a mess of mangled flesh. James turns away and wretches into the grass.

Suddenly light fills his eyes, blindingly bright. He raises an arm to shield his eyes while meters away from him something inhuman cries out. He hears it crashing away through the brush, and when he eases his eyes open the shouts and gunfire have been replaced once more by the sound of rain.

The gunship's floodlights are on, angled at the prisoners' enclosure. None of the pirates remain, at least none that are alive. As James's eyes sweep over the carnage he feels the urge to throw up again. _If there's any mercy in the galaxy, they're not alive._

A figure rounds the corner of the ship, and with a rush of relief James recognizes the red and gray suit of Kal'reegar. He is followed by another quarian, who slows down when they reach the enclosure. James hears him mutter: _"Keelah..."_

Kal doesn't stop, charging up to the edge of the trees, assault rifle raised. No sign of the creature remains, save a trail of crushed shrubbery and blood-spattered leaves. Kal makes a quick survey of the area, then trots back to the other quarian. James cannot hear their words, but from their body language he can see they are having a quick, intense argument. Kal makes a wild gesture with his arm, and James catches the words _"Fucking _bosh'tet, _what do you..." _before the rain drowns them out again. After another moment Kal turns from the other quarian and stalks angrily to the awning. His eyes sweep the carnage and settle on James. He quickly picks his way through the debris, squatting at James's side. "Hey," he says gruffly, a hint of anger still in his voice. "You okay?"

Unable to speak, Jame sonly nods.

Kal looks around one last time, then gets to his feet. He shoots a glance over his shoulder, to where the other quarian has already disappeared back into the camp. Kal grunts in anger or satisfaction James can't tell, and turns to go.

James feels panic rising in his chest, and he chokes out: "W-wait!"

Kal pauses, eyes trained on the broken trail as if it might vanish at any moment. "What?" he demands.

James takes a shuddering breath. "Don't, don't leave me here," he stammers, then more firmly: "I'm coming with you."

This time Kal turns around, looking James in the eye. "There's no turning back," he says at length. "I'm going to find that thing, and kill it. I don't have time for any bullshit." He looks again at the swath of crushed vegetation, leading off into the bowels of the forest. "Although," he admits. "I could use another man. I'm sure as hell not getting any help from these _bosh'tets,_" he says, directing an angry look back at the camp. "Can you shoot a gun?"

"Of course," says James. _How hard could it be?_ he thinks. Kal extends a gloved hand and James takes it, pulling himself to his feet. Kal passes him a large pistol, keeping his assault rifle for himself.

The quarian nods at James. "Stay sharp. Let's go."

He turns and makes for the path and james follows him, stopping for a moment by the silver canister the pirate had dropped. He slips it into his pocket and jogs after Kal, and they both disappear into the mouth of the forest.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Rain hits the leaves overhead in a never-ending cascade of white noise, muffling every sound Kal and James make as they push further into the forest. Kal leads, swinging his rifle from side to side, its flashlight providing the only illumination in the darkness. James follows, his eyes darting after the flashlight's beam. His fingers, already numb with cold, slip on the pistol's handle and he readjusts his grip, blinking the rain from his eyes. Ahead of him Kal looks around for a moment, then turns and plunges into the undergrowth. If he is following any sort of trail it's a mystery to James. _I hope he knows where we're going,_ he thinks. He considers prayer, then decides that if there is a god, he's not likely to hold James in any high regard. Instead he directs his thoughts at Kal, trying to ignore his pounding heart and chattering teeth. _You'd better fucking know where we're going, you quarian bastard. _

Suddenly Kal stops, so suddenly that James runs into him. Kal turns and grabs James roughly by the shoulder. "Shhh," he hisses. "Look!"

James steps back and squints in the direction Kal is pointing. A few meters away a bright yellow glow shines through the leaves. Kal inches closer, his rifle leveled. The branches shift and the two find themselves in a tiny clearing, only two or three meters in diameter. In its center a metal rod juts from the ground, a glowing yellow light at its tip.

Kal approaches the rod warily, but it merely sits there. The quarian lowers his rifle. "It looks like a marker," he says.

James looks around the tiny bubble of light, feeling uncomfortably visible. "What's it supposed to be marking then?" he asks.

Kal shakes his head. "I don't know." He examines the ground, then swears angrily. "Shit! I lost the trail. There's nothing here, no blood, no prints, nothi-" He freezes and his voice drops to a whisper. "James! Listen!"

James listens, and at first he hears only the crash of the rain on the leaves all around them. Then, slowly, another sound becomes audible.

Kal's fingers tighten on James's shoulder. "It's coming!" He pushes James aside and raises his rifle, sweeping the beam around in a wide arc.

James fumbles with the pistol in his hands. Direction is impossible to place in the rain. He stands with his back to Kal's, raising the gun in both hands. He fights his unwilling fingers, forcing one into the trigger guard. The sounds grow closer, foliage crumpling and twigs snapping. Water runs into James's eyes and hair falls in front of his vision. He tries to blow it away but can barely muster the breath. The crashing steps grow louder and he knows the beast must be almost upon them. The noise is all around them, closing in faster and faster. His hands shake wildly, ignoring his commands to be steady, and he knows he has no chance of hitting anything. And then it breaks through the foliage directly in front of him.

James blinks. Standing before him, seemingly equally surprised, is an armored human. The man holds a rifle of some kind, and the eyes of his helmet glow green in the darkness. The moment seems to stretch out elastically, and then suddenly it snaps. The human raises his rifle, calling out over James's shoulder. "Tag them!"

James reels back as something hits him in the shoulder and then in the chest. A sharp, searing pain spreads through him and he cries out, dropping to his knees. In his blurring vision he sees a pair of armored knees walk by, and the human's voice, sounding canned and processed from his helmet's speakers. "It must have gotten lost. Fan out, no mistakes." James's hearing fades out, and he feels the muddy ground rush forward to greet him. He catches a snippet of another voice, but it seems very far away.

"... Quarian was... find. Looks... promotions... the human, though."

"...Find a use... him..."

And then all James hears is the rain, and then he knows no more.

…

Kal'reegar is awoken by a throbbing pain in the back of his neck. He groans, trying to move his head, but the muscles in his neck burn when he tries to move them. His left bicep aches too, and below it his arm is numb and prickly. Something cold and hard presses against his back. It must be the floor. He's lying down, he knows that much.

Reluctantly, Kal opens his eyes. Above him is a featureless steel ceiling. _Why_, he wonders somewhat petulantly. _Why can't I ever get knocked out and wake up somewhere _pleasant_? It's always hard floors and fucking hostile humans. I couldn't wake up in, say, a _bed_ for once?_

Ignoring the burning in his neck and arm, Kal makes himself sit up. He is inside a metal cube, a box without furnishings except for the shadows in the corners. He twists around, gritting his teeth at the pain in his neck, to see that one of the walls of his prison is clear glass with a row of air holes along the top. He turns himself to face the glass, but it's nothing more than a gesture really. Whether or not he is taken by surprise makes no difference; he is utterly at his captors' mercy.

He tries to remember something, anything at all about how he got here. He remembers standing in the woods with James, waiting for the beast to emerge from the shadows. _But it didn't._ He frowns. _What happened? _In a flash it all comes back. Instead of a giant black creature, what had appeared had been human. _Human!_ The alien had been heavily armored and had carried a rifle. Kal remembers someone shouting and the _pop_ of suppressed fire. Everything after that is darkness.

He massages his arm, making the fingers on his left hand tingle strangely. _Hypodermic darts. They weren't prepared for combat. Not soldiers then. Hunters? Were they after the same thing we were?_ A tiny glint of hope begins to shine in Kal's mind. If the humans are hunting the beast, then they are both on the same side. Perhaps knocking him and James out was just a precaution. A disturbing memory floats to the surface of his murky recollection, something about a quarian being a _great find. _He dismisses it though; his memory is far from reliable at the moment.

The glass wall of his cell opens onto a brightly-lit hallway. The cells must be staggered, because he can see the edge of another window a ways down the hall. Behind the glass it is too dark for him to be able to make out anything but his own reflection, though it is this that gives him pause. Carefully, forcing his mind to be silent, he raises a trembling hand to his visor. His questing fingers trace up the line of cracks from the bottom of the mask, and before they reach their target he is already dreadfully certain what they will find. In the intersection of two branching cracks, a tiny chip of glass is missing.

Kal's heart drops into his stomach. Although only the width of a blade of grass, the breech is enough to doom him. Open to the air of a foreign world, his weak immune system will be brushed aside by millions of bacteria and infections. Shaking, he drops his hand. _I am fucked, _he thinks dully. _I'm well and truly in deep space without a reactor._ Another thought raises its hand quietly, but despair ignores it. _This is it. This is the mission you don't come back from. A crashing starship, capture by pirates, attack by some kind of blood-crazed animal, and what does me in? An infection. That's just insulting!_

In the back of his mind, the thought yells to make itself heard through the cloud of self-pity. Hope once again shows its face as something slowly occurs to Kal. _Hold on. All this steel, white lights, glass... This looks like a medical facility! Once they know I'm on their side, they can shoot me full of antibiotics, and we can kill that damn creature and get back to the fleet!_

A half a smile begins to form on Kal's lips at the thought of putting an end to the thing that murdered his fellow marines. His smile widens as footsteps echo from down the hallway, and he cranes his aching neck to see who is coming.

Kal's face falls and his eyes open in shock as the approaching party comes into view. Two of the armored hunters come first, dragging something large and black behind them. _It's the beast! They already killed it!_ The hunters stop outside the cell across the hall from Kal's, and behind them a man in a gray coat appears. A pair of night vision goggles rest atop his hairless head, and his stained coat falls all the way to the toes of his muddy combat boots. The hunters shuffle aside to let him past, and the man stops by the door to enter a code into a keypad outside. The glass slides up into the ceiling and the hunters throw the beast into the chamber. The man in the coat seals the door again, entering another code into the keypad.

Kal stands with some effort and moves to the glass of his own cell. "Hey!" he calls, tapping on the glass. "Hello! Could you, ah..."

The man in the coat turns to face him, smiling a little. There is something almost _hungry_ about his smile. He gestures to the hunters and strides over to Kal's cell.

"You want to be careful with that thing," advises Kal, trying to quash the growing feeling of nervousness in his stomach. "It killed a whole squad of marines."

"How touching," murmurs the man, tapping something outside the cell. The glass slides up with a hiss and Kal takes an involuntary step back. The man smiles again. "But woefully ironic." He nods to the hunters. "Restrain him."

Kal holds up his hands as the hunters step toward him. "Whoa, hold on! We're on the same side, I've been trying to kill that thing too!"

The hunters grab his wrists roughly, forcing them behind his back as one of them applies a set of energy cuffs. Kal struggles, angry and confused. The hunters ignore his weak protests, forcing him back against the wall. They snap bindings around his neck and ankles and fix them to the wall. Kal strains against the bonds with all his strength, but the magnetic fields are unyielding and he finally gives up, breathing heavily.

The man in the long coat watches, seemingly amused. "Are you finished?" he inquires pleasantly.

Kal locks eyes with his captor, rage filling him, making his muscles tremble, "Fuck you," he spits through clenched teeth. "I will kill you. Just wait."

Kal's defiance only seems to amuse the human more. "Excellent," he purrs, stepping closer to Kal. "I might enjoy this after all." He slips his hands behind Kal's ears, his fingers deftly finding the seals of Kal's visor. "You won't be needing this anymore," he says, and the visor comes away in his hands.

Kal bears his teeth as the cold, unprocessed air hits him in the face. He instantly feels naked without the mask, and even more vulnerable than he already is. Another two humans step into the room. They wear long white coats and masks. One of the men carries a steel case. They stop in front of the gray-coated man, giving a little half-bow. "Shall we begin, sir?" one of the men asks.

The gray-coated man shakes his head, looking straight into Kal's eyes. "No, I will do this one myself. The scissors, size three." The men open the case and pass their leader a small pair of silver scissors. The ma leans in and swiftly begins to cut open Kal's suit, starting at his belt and making a V up his chest and around his arms. The men in white coats help him peel off the top half of the envirosuit as Kal struggles against the cuffs, completely helpless.

When the suit is off the man steps away, looking Kal up and down as he hangs exhausted in the bonds, chest heaving. "Quite the fighting spirit," the man says, seemingly to himself. "Let's see..." He turns to one of the white coats, snapping his fingers impatiently. "Syringes. We'll take 83B, this one looks strong. And give me the antiseptic swab, we don't want impurities. Oh no."

The white coats hurriedly hand the man what he asks for. He fills a syringe with a clear liquid and steps closer to Kal, reaching a hand to his neck. Kal twists his head, snapping at the hand, which is quickly withdrawn.

"Good thing I went with B," says the man amicably. "A might not have been enough!" he motions to the hunters. One of the armored humans strides up to Kal, and before Kal can react the man whips a gauntlet across his face. Kal's head hits the wall and the right side of his face explodes in pain. He tastes blood in his mouth, and his right eye fills with blood. Another blow hits him in the stomach, driving the breath from his lungs. His body tries to curl up, to defend itself somehow, but the bindings keep him upright as the two hunters hit him again and again. He loses track of time as everything fades into constant pain. Eventually the hunters step back, lowering their bloody hands, and the man in the gray coat smiles at Kal. "Ready now?" he asks, like a parent to a stubborn child.

Kal says nothing, still reeling from the beating. A string of bloody saliva drips from the corner of his mouth, and the man affectionately wipes it away with a gloved hand. "Let's begin now," he says, and with one quick motion he brings the syringe up and stabs it into Kal's neck.

A blinding whiteness fills Kal's mind. Every muscle in his body instantly goes rigid and his eyes roll back in his head. The pain begins as unbearable, spreading through his body as it mounts to levels he would have never thought possible. All thoughts are driven from his mind. His mouth opens and freezes, rendered mute as the white fire surges through him.

Perception is pushed to the back of his consciousness, and he only half sees the man as he readies another needle. Then the pain somehow increases, spreading from his right arm this time in a tidal-wave of horrific, burning heat. Kal finds his voice.

The man in the gray coat is thorough. The needles visit both of Kal's arms and legs. Even after they put the gag in his mind is filled with soundless screaming, bouncing off of the walls of his head and filling everything he knows. It continues forever, and when darkness seeps into his vision Kal cries with happiness, pleading with death to come quickly. He pulls the darkness over him like a blanket, and it envelopes him, at last ending the pain.

…

James wakes up, instantly curling up into a ball as the breath is driven from him. Wheezing, he opens his eyes, finding himself face-to-face with the boot that just kicked him. He coughs, closing his eyes again, as if perhaps he might really wake at up any second.

"He's awake," says the boot.

_I hate that boot,_ thinks James darkly. _Hated it the first time I saw it. Which was just now. After it kicked me. Maybe that was unfair._ He looks up into the helmeted face of the man wearing the boot who, now that he is more awake, James realizes must have been the one to speak.

The man looks down at James for a moment, then returns his gaze to whomever he was talking to. "What do we do with him?"

James squeezes his eyes shut again. His whole body hurts, and his head is spinning. Over his head someone says something, but it doesn't make any sense. He catches the words: "a trial," and "breakfast." If a kick in the stomach is someone's idea of breakfast, he would just as soon go hungry.

"Is it ready?" someone asks.

"Not quite. Tincture 85 takes a while to reach optimum virulence. Why don't you bag this up? Get them both in the shuttle. You know what to do."

There's a rustling sound, and James feels a sharp pain in the side of his neck. _Oh, not again,_ he thinks, and then he slips back into the embrace of sleep.

…

James turns over, shivering. A dream of warmth and comfort floats just out of reach, and the more he tries to pull it back to him the further it drifts away. His clothes stick to him, chilly and damp, and as the last tendrils of sleep fade away a drop of water splashes against his cheek.

He gets up from the wet ground, brushing rain-soaked leaves from his soaking clothes. He is back in the forest, but the rain has stopped. By the red glow of the sun through the leaves he guesses it is early morning. He looks around, still slightly dazed, and then his heart nearly stops.

Lying on the grass and fallen leaves nearby is Kal'reegar. The quarian man is stripped to the waist, his envirosuit torn away above the belt. In shock, James's eyes travel up and down the unconscious man's form. Kal's skin, he sees, is a pale indigo, almost purple in places. Dark purple bruises and cuts cover his torso, and the right side of his face is covered in dried blood. Despite the injury, the quarian's face looks almost peaceful. James finds himself staring at Kal's visage, hidden for so long behind his visor. To his curiosity, Kal's features are almost entirely human, although his face seems somehow more angular than an average human's. Below his neck, Kal's body is free of hair, but his cheeks are covered with a short bristle of stubble, and long, silver-white hair fans out on the ground behind his head. Not only does his face fit better with his voice than James had imagined, but without his visor Kal is also strikingly handsome; if not in a traditional sense then in a dangerous, predatory sort of way.

Snapping out of his trance, James bends down quickly, putting his ear next to Kal's nose. After a moment of dread, he feels a soft exhalation.

James feels, to his surprise, anger building inside him. He stands up, glaring at Kal. "This is your damn fault," he mutters. "The least you could do would be to be awake for it." He thinks back to the strange dreams he had, dreams of cold metal floors and men in armor. He shakes his head. Right now, he has no idea what's real and what's not, and here he is, all alone in the middle of the forest with no weapons and a comatose Kal'reegar.

He sighs, looking around again. The foliage is just as unfamiliar as before. He drops his gaze to Kal's sleeping face, scowling again. "This is entirely your fault, you know that?" he bursts out. "You come out of nowhere, crash the damn ship into some uncharted world with fucking monsters on it, and you're the enemy too, a freaking _quarian soldier_, but I'm fucking _stupid_ and of course I fall for you anyway! Why do you have to be so... so... _you?_ I wouldn't be in this mess if I had just, I don't know, shot you or something! But no, you saved my life, and then I saved yours like some goddamn fucking stupid-ass _story!_ And you know what's supposed to happen then, you goddamn asshole? We're supposed to live goddamn happily ever-fucking-after, but you're such a goddamn prick you had to go off chasing some goddamn monster into the middle of the goddamn woods! And what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? Leave your ass to get eaten or some shit? Why can't you see that I care about you, you stupid fucking..."

James pauses, then cries out in frustration. "Fuck! I can't even think of a word to describe how stupid you are! You are monumentally stupid, and I love you because I'm stupid too and now your suit's off so you're probably going to die or something and it's all your fault. Asshole." James sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve. After a moment he takes a deep breath and continues, less loudly this time. "Fine. I saved your ass once, maybe I can do it again. You're sure as hell not going to do it yourself."

He crouches down and shakes Kal by the arm. "You hear that, dumbass? I'm saving your sorry ass, so don't go and die before I'm finished. You're not gonna die on me now, not after you got me into all this." With a grunt he lifts Kal up and, with some exertion, hoists him onto his shoulders. "Ah, shit!" he swears under his breath. "How does someone who lives on paste get this heavy?"

With a last look around, James clenches his jaw and heads doggedly off into the forest, Kal's unconscious body slung over his shoulders.

…


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Kal wakes. He is chased by shadow, by heat and muffled, shouting voices. He pulls away, shaking off the hands of darkness and striking out for the surface. His eyes snap open. "James!"

A hand touches his shoulder, really _touches_, and he reels away from the contact. Someone speaks, his voice low with concern. "Kal! Are you okay?"

Kal shudders, his whole body spasming, his teeth clicking violently against each other. He locks his jaw, taking deep, shaky breaths and riding out the shock. The world seems to spin around him, but the hand gripping his shoulder remains steady. Kal focuses on it, making it the center of his world. Gradually his body begins to still, breath coming now with less effort. He gasps, his chest heaving. "My suit. What happened?"

Before his eyes the face of James swims into focus. The human shakes his head, his eyes showing a deep worry. "I don't know. I found you like this. It looks like someone cut your suit off at the waist. Are... Are you-"

Kal nods, pushing himself more upright. He is leaning against the wall of a small cave, and to his right it opens over the tops of the trees. "That's normal. We have our suits on all our lives. They're not really supposed to come off." He shivers again, memories coming back to him. "Not like that, anyway."

James sits back, folding his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. He watches Kal silently, waiting for the quarian to speak.

Kal looks out over the forest. By the sun's position he judges it to be mid-afternoon. His eyes loose focus as the previous night pieces itself back together in his mind. He stays very still for a long time, and then without turning his head he breaks the silence. "Did they get you, too?"

"Yes. They knocked me out, brought me to some kind of building. It didn't look like a military base, though. More like a lab, or a research facility. I didn't see you there. I was only awake for a minute or so, really, then they knocked me back out and the next thing I knew I was lying in the forest again."

Kal processes this. "They didn't... Do anything to you?"

"No," says James. "Why? What happened to you?"

Kal doesn't answer the question. Instead, he says, "Our ships were pulled down to this planet by a gravity well. The fleet won't be sending any more reinforcements, so we're stuck as long as that thing is operational. I think that wherever they took us is where the gravity well is set up."

"You mean you want to go _back_?" asks James disbelievingly.

Kal turns this time, meeting the human's eyes. "We don't have another choice. There's no other way off this planet."

James frowns. "Why are they pulling in ships? What's the point?"

"I don't know," says Kal grimly. "But I can guess. I was awake for a while last night. I was in a cell, but I could see outside. I saw them dragging in the... thing, that monster we were hunting. They threw it into another cell. You want to know what I think they're doing? I think they're studying it. Last night, they weren't looking for us. They were waiting for the... Damn, I don't even know what to call it."

"I saw its head," says James. "It was awful. I didn't get a good look at the rest of it, it was too fast and too dark. Its head, though," he continues thoughtfully. "It looked a little like the head of a wolf. They're a protected species on earth," he adds, seeing Kal's puzzled expression. "Last I heard there were still some left in Old Canada and the Eurasian preserve."

"Huh," snorts Kal. "Remind me never to visit."

"I only said it _looked_ like one," says James. "And only the head." His eyebrows suddenly raise. "Well," he says. "We do know one thing about it. It's from off-world."

"How do you figure?"

"It's a predator," explains James, seeming pleased with himself. "You know, top of the food chain and all that? Except there's nothing here to support such a high trophic level! Have you seen anything bigger than a rodent in all the time we were here?" Kal shakes his head. "Right! That means..."

James's voice trails off. His face darkens. "Oh, shit," he says quietly. "I see now. _We're _supporting it. We're the food."

"So they bring it out here, beyond the jurisdiction of any government," says Kal. "But there's nothing for it to eat here, so they figured out a solution." He pauses. "But why wouldn't they just fly in domestic animals? It would be so much easier."

"There's only one reason I can think of," says James. "This isn't just some insane naturist group we're dealing with. They want this thing as a weapon."

Kal sits quietly for a moment. "It makes sense, doesn't it? What better way to test it, see what kind of damage it can do?"

"I guess we know what happened to your scavenging ship," remarks James. Kal's eyes flash and he looks down quickly. "Sorry," he mutters. "That was a shitty thing to say."

Kal lets out a breath tiredly. "No, it's alright. You're probably right. And I'm sorry I accused you. I guess..." He turns his face away, letting the light of the setting sun warm his skin. _It's so different,_ he thinks, marveling at the feeling despite himself. _Everyone else feels this all the time._ "I guess," he continues, pulling the words out from inside him. "I didn't want to believe you were different from Vin and the rest of them. Everything is so much simpler when you can separate them like that. People like Vin are everything that's wrong with the galaxy. They don't care about anything but themselves, and they'll do anything to line their own pockets. I joined the marines so I could stop criminals like that from hurting my people."

Kal takes a breath, then finishes, pushing past the lump in his throat. "I was wrong to put you in the same ship as Vin. You saved my life, and if we ever get back to the fleet, I'll see it isn't forgotten."

James doesn't say anything, and when Kal looks back, slightly nervous, there's an almost sad smile on his face. Kal feels a strange tug of emotion toward the man. He takes it for the beginnings of camaraderie, of the bond between two men going through hell together. _After all this, he's still a criminal, _Kal reminds himself. _Don't make attachments, no matter how small._

Across from him James's look has changed from happiness to worry again. "You haven't said anything about infection," he says warily. "I know what your immune system must be like. I heard even open air can make quarians sick, and you have a lot of old wounds too."

"Old?" Kal looks down at himself. His torso is covered in cuts, but they are all halfway healed, the bruises faded to a purple barely darker than his skin. His brows furrow as he rubs the side of his face. He can remember the strike of an armored hand there so clearly that the pain seems almost fresh, but when he runs his hand over the wound he finds only a dry scab. "These are all from last night," he says, perplexed. "I don't understand this. There's no way they should be healed by now."

His hand continues down the back of his neck and he stops suddenly. Under his fingers something small and hard is sticking out, just breaking the skin. Moving his hair out of the way, he calls James over. The human peers at the spot, leaning in for a closer look. "It's a tiny bit of metal," James reports. "It looks like a computer chip almost. There's no blood around it though, just scar tissue. You, ah, sure you never noticed this before?"

"Yes, I'm sure," says Kal, irritated. He shakes his hair back into place, brushing off the human. "Check your own neck, why don't you. They must have wanted to track me."

"There's nothing on me. Can you remember anything else that happened to you last night?"

Kal forces himself to think back, but past a certain point all his mind turns up is blinding, white-hot pain, so bad that Kal's eyes widen and he feels himself pushing the memory back as far as he can. He drops his head, unconsciously massaging the inside of his arm. "No," he says once he's sure of his voice again. "But it was bad. There were two men in armor, hunters, and a bald human in a coat. He... did something to me. I can't remember, or don't want to. It's all confused. It must have something to do with this, though," he says, gesturing to his healed wounds. "What else can it be? There's not even any sign of infection, and it's been hours! I should be feeling sick, those cuts should be inflamed. There's just no way it's coincidence."

"I don't know," says James skeptically. "Why would they kidnap us just to heal your immune system?"

Kal shakes his head. "Whatever they did to me, it wasn't a healing. There must have been another purpose. We'll just have to wait and see."

James shoots a glance outside the cave. The sun is sinking over the treetops, glowing orange as the day draws to a close. "What're we going to do, Kal?" he asks, and he sounds very tired. "I dragged us both up here, and I've done my best, but I'm out of ideas. I don't know what to do."

"We find Commander Zarra," says Kal, filling his voice with confidence, although for whose benefit he doesn't know. "It's all we can do. The hunters' base must be south of the camp, and I'll bet they took us further south. Why would they drop us closer to the camp? We'll head north at daybreak." He smiles ruefully. "I've learned my lesson about traveling at night."

The two men lean back against opposite cave walls, their boots almost touching. The space is small, but in the light of the setting sun it is warm and comfortable enough. Kal eases his head back against the rock, and as he watches the golden orb of the sun descend slowly below the horizon he picks up a pebble and rolls it between his fingers, savoring the unfamiliar roughness. _If I could live like this I would be the happiest man alive_, he thinks sadly. _How much longer do I have until this new world kills me? Hours? Days?_

Across from him, James stirs. "Kal," he says, a trace of hesitance in his voice.

Kal'reegar closes his eyes, tilting his head more comfortably on the stone. For a man about to die, he feels a strange sense of peace. "What is it, James?" he asks, not impatiently.

"You were right," says the human. He speaks slowly, as if unsure of how much to say. "I never have killed anyone. I've never even been on a real raid. I joined Vin's crew when their ship stopped on Omega, barely a week ago."

Kal waits, sensing that the floodgates are about to open.

"I'm not sure why I did it," continues James. "I think I wanted to prove something, but I don't remember what it was, or who I wanted to prove it to. It was stupid. Really stupid."

"We all do stupid things," says Kal softly.

"I never should have been on Omega in the first place," says James, talking faster now. "I used to live on earth, you know that? There was this place on earth called the United States, back when countries meant something. We lived in a bit of the country called Illinois, my brother and I. It's right on the edge of the badlands. Used to be that part of the country was farmland, but not anymore. People live there now, in a big dirty sprawl branching out from the cities. You'll never see anything about it if you go there, just big, shiny, clean places like New York and Detroit City. They more or less pretend the badlands don't exist, but that's where we grew up.

"My brother Peter was the only family I ever had. I never knew our parents, but I think Peter did. He carried around a picture of them in his wallet, from back before I was born. Not many people had jobs where we lived, and I never knew where Peter got his money. When he showed up with food at night sometimes he had black eyes and bruises. Sometimes there wasn't any food, and he didn't come back until the morning. I asked him where he went sometimes, but he never told me. Eventually I found out he was fighting in cheap prize matches, but by that time it was too late. He already owed money to too many people, and it finally caught up with him. I was fifteen when a couple of guys broke down the door to our pathetic little shack during dinner. They pinned Peter to the wall and beat him bloody, then one of them shot him in the stomach. They left him to die right there on the dirt floor of our tiny little home, and I remember them laughing as they walked away.

"I drifted around after that. I suppose I was angry, partly at Peter for risking his life and partly at the world for being so completely shitty. I hitched a ride to the nearest spaceport and stowed away on the first ship I saw. They caught me eventually, but by then earth was long gone. The ship's captain put me to work, and they kicked me out at the next port." James runs a hand through his hair, his eyes downcast. "I barely remember the last eight or nine years. How pathetic is that? But it's true, it's all a big confused blur. I didn't do anything important. I wanted to make something of myself, but I just ended up wasting nearly a decade of my life without making any difference at all. I was finally so fed up with myself that when Vin's ship docked on Omega I signed up." He sighs heavily. "You know the rest. I don't even know why I'm saying all this, you didn't ask to hear about my shitty life."

"You saved my life," says Kal slowly, choosing his words carefully. "That makes a difference to me. And I know you don't think so, but from what I've seen you're no coward. You were right behind me going after that monster last night, and when I was lying half-dead you didn't run for it. You kept your head, and you got both of us to safety." He blinks, realizing the truth of what he's said. _After the way I treated him, and knowing I'd testify against him if I survived, when he had the chance to run he chose to save me again. _His heart twists and he looks down at his feet. _Whatever you are, James, you're a better man than me._

James looks questioningly at Kal. "Why would you say that? I know you don't like me, you don't have to pretend just to make me feel better."

Kal's insides jerk again, and he feels shame rise like bile in the back of his throat. "Nah," he says gruffly. "It's mostly just this damned planet getting to me. Besides, I only said what's true."

James's mouth turns up in a half-smile. He looks outside the cave. Darkness is falling quickly, and a few drops of rain are beginning to hit the rocky slope outside, the vanguard of another storm. "We'd better get some sleep," he says. "We've got some ground to cover tomorrow if we're going to make it back."

Kal closes his eyes again, and as the rain begins to fall outside he lets sleep overtake him.

…


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Why hello there. The next chapter is here, and it was quite the experience reading it as it rolled out of my hands, into the keyboard, and onto the screen. You are about to read it, and don't worry, you will have the chance soon enough.

While I have your attention however, I have a short public service announcement. Chances are that many of you dear readers are also writers, or may be in the future. Now, I'm not claiming to be a master of the language, far from it! There are a few things, however, that really peeve me when I read fanfiction (or any story). Maybe by sharing them with you I can make the world a slightly better place.

Thus, I am delaying your reading of this chapter by a few seconds in the hopes that you will read this. (Except for Casey. You can skip it, you hear me rant enough already.)

**I: **_It's_ is a contraction of _it is_. It is **not** the possessive thingy for _it_. If you don't know this, well, now you do. There's no excuse for _it waved it's arms_ or the like.

**II:** Semicolons are **serious business**! They are not toys. Please check before you put one in: does it connect two sentences with the same idea? Could I have used a period or coma instead?

**III: **Do not go ballistic with comas. Do not put a coma before _and_, unless you really know what you are doing! Periods are your **friends**! Got a lot of weird pauses? Start a new sentence, there's no penalty!

**Chapter 12**

Kal's dreams are troubled. He sees trees and moving figures through a film of red, muffled voices crying out to him in the back of his head. They scream for blood, and the tree trunks blur as he leaps forward, moving effortlessly over branches and rocks. A figure in the distance is growing closer, and as he speeds toward it it turns slowly to face him. Kal catches a glimpse of familiar features frozen in terror, and as the voices grow to an unbearable crescendo his eyes open and he is on the floor of the cave, shivering in the cold.

An echoing _boom_ startles him and he rolls over, looking outside the mouth of the cave. The cacophony of rain splashing against rock fills the small cave, and outside lightning forks across the sky. James taps his shoulder and Kal looks back at him. The human is pointing out into the forest.

Kal rises, carefully so as not to hit his head on the low ceiling, and steps to the opening of the cave. "There's a light out there," calls James from behind him. "I figured it was worth waking you for. It must be the rest of the quarians."

Kal squints through the rain. In the darkness he can just make out a point of light among the trees. Lightning flashes again, followed by a roll of thunder that seems to shake the ground. "We won't be able to find them in the morning," says Kal.

"That's what I thought. How are you feeling?"

Kal's ears still seem to ring with far away voices, but he ignores it, pushing aside his strange dream. "No different from yesterday," he says. "Are you ready to go?"

James nods. "Let me lead the way. It's a tricky enough path in daylight."

The two make their way down a narrow, stony path that winds around the hillside. Moonlight seeps faintly through the clouds in places, giving barely enough illumination to see by. Nevertheless, Kal finds himself having little trouble finding his way in the darkness. Perhaps it is the lack of a visor in front of his eyes, but his night vision seems to be better than usual. Yet again, he wonders uneasily what the hunters did to him. _Forget about it,_ he tells himself as he and James scramble down the end of the path. _Worrying about what you can't fix won't do you any good._

…

Kal leads the way through the forest. Something seems not right, like a half-heard voice on the edge of perception. The rain pelts his skin, but beneath the chill is a warm tingling. He leads on, squinting to make out the glow through the downpour. The undergrowth and trees end abruptly. Kal stops, and in an instant his hope turns to dread.

The forest ends, rocky ground continuing for a hundred meters before falling away in a sheer cliff. Lightning flashes, and as it does a huge wave breaks against the cliff's face. Kal can see nothing but stormy water beyond it, stretching off endlessly into the darkness.

The light is coming from a small fire burning under a tent of leaves and branches back by the trees. The men standing by it are not quarians. Even before Kal feels the hand close around his neck he knows who it is they have stumbled upon.

"Look who it is." Something sharp digs into the small of his back and the fingers on his neck squeeze tighter. He casts a glance over his shoulder. Two more men have come up behind them. One of them holds James with his hands behind his back. The blade of a knife glints in the firelight. "Jamie boy," croons the voice beside his ear. "Look what you've brought us."

Kal is shoved forward. He complies, feeling the point of the knife pressing into his skin, and he and James are brought before the small campfire. Kal is forced to his knees, and when he looks up he sees that three more men have joined them. The pirates number six in total, and Kal counts at least three knives among them. They crowd around James and Kal, pressing in to get a look at their new captives.

"Isn't this _funny_," says the voice behind Kal, accompanying his words with another prod of the knife. "First we catch you, then you catch us, then we start all over again. Except this time, there's no damned turian around to tell us what to do. We would have been off this world long ago if not for you, you little bitch. This is all your fault."

One of the pirates runs a finger along his blade. "Let's gut 'em, nice and slow. I hate those alien fucks. Let's start with that one."

"Shut up!" yells the first man angrily. "I'll decide that, not you! I say we start with the one of our own who betrayed us!"

Kal shakes his head slightly. His ears are ringing, and a muffled buzzing fills the back of his mind. Beneath his skin the tingling and heat intensify, so much that he barely feels the rain.

Misreading his gesture, the man behind him laughs harshly. "You got a problem with that, E.T.? Good. In that case, I'll enjoy watching _you _watch _this_, almost as much as I'll enjoy it when it's your turn."

On the other side of the fire one of the pirates grabs James by the hair, yanking his head back roughly. A small cry escapes James's throat.

That small noise of pain fills Kal with anguish. It is a little thing, but in it is the innocence of a man who has never been willingly violent to anyone, now the subject of eager violence and hate. It is injustice. Kal bares his teeth, struggling uselessly against his captor.

The man holding James raises his knife. The tip trails down the side of James's face, drawing a thin red line. The human's eyes are shut tight, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Above him the pirate smiles.

Kal can no longer hear the rain. The pounding in his ears fills his head, his head filling with the shouting voices from his dream. His insides are burning, rage filling his blood with fire. _You can't touch him,_ he thinks. _He is a better man than any of you. You have no right. _His vision seems to narrow, focusing on the man holding the knife against James's face. _You will not hurt him. I will not let you hurt him._

A gust of wind blows through the trees. Above the plateau the clouds shift, and for a moment the wind pulls them apart. Between their dark bulks the moon shines, silver and perfectly round.

Kal's skin is suddenly burning, an awful heat that rises from within him and pushes outward. The fuzziness in his head is gone, and within his mind the voices scream. His mouth opens but his voice is somewhere else. The hand at his neck loosens but he does not notice. His body shakes, his vision blurring around the edges, and in that moment he feels as if he is being physically ripped apart. His mind is not his own and he is being pushed out of it, thrown aside with a force that sends his consciousness reeling.

With all his effort Kal pushes, forcing his way back into himself. There is something foreign in his mind, and he struggles with it for an eternity. At last the invader relents, and the world begins to come back into focus around him.

...

He feels different. His muscles ache as if waiting to be stretched after a long journey, and there is an energy within him that was absent before. He tries to remember where he is, but thinking is so hard.

He swings his head, taking in his surroundings. A group of humans stand in a ring around him. They stare at him, eyes wide. A face among them stands out to him. Thoughts move sluggishly through his head, reaching him as if from far away. _This is James,_ they say.

_Yes_, thinks Kal. _I know James. He is mine._

Kal draws in a deep breath through his nose, smelling fresh blood on the human's face. _Someone has hurt him,_ prods the voice in the back of his head. _They have hurt your James._

Anger fills him and he growls, a deep rumbling that comes from far inside his chest. His eyes travel upward. Another human stands over James, his face frozen in shock. A short knife dangles from his hand, and on it is James's blood.

The movement is explosive, and it happens so fast that it surprises Kal. One second he is still, like a wound up spring, and the next he is leaping across the fire, heedless of the flames as he hits the man in the chest and bears him to the ground. The human screams once, then Kal snaps his jaws, surprised again at the strength of his muscles, and his mouth fills with the man's blood. He shakes his head, feels the neck snap, and tosses the limp body away. He feels alive, more than he has ever been before. The anger within him mixes with fierce joy, and he knows without a doubt that he will kill them all.

…

James opens his eyes when he hears the growl. His first thought is, _Oh no oh mother of God how did it get here?_ Then he sees. Kal'reegar is gone.

He stares across the fire. Orange light flickers over the beast. The torn remains of Kal's suit lie around the creature. Lightning flashes, and its bared teeth glint viciously.

James has another thought, but it moves through his head in slow-motion. The whole world seems to have frozen, holding its breath. _It can't be. No. It's not possible._

Then the moment shatters. The beast leaps at him, sailing over his shoulder close enough to touch and pinning the pirate behind him to the ground. The man screams, blood flying into the air.

James turns and runs. He doesn't look back, just runs on and on, branches slapping at him, the rain pelting his face. Behind him he hears more screams. He runs on, pushing through the undergrowth, until something catches his foot and he trips, sprawling in the mud. In a blind panic, he turns over onto his back, pushing himself frantically backward on his elbows. His back hits a tree trunk and he collapses against it, panting.

James's mind whirls. He can't put together a coherent thought; as soon as he tries to grab the pieces to one they fly away and are lost. What he has just seen cannot in any way be real. It is not possible.

Time passes. James feels his breath coming back to him. Gradually, his mind begins to reassemble itself. The forest is silent again, save the ever-present patter of the rain on the leaves.

He takes a deep breath. He takes another one.

He stands up.

…

The fire has gone out. The awning above it has collapsed, its supports snapped. James does not look at the ground.

Darkness presses in, but there is a little light coming from the partially hidden moon. At the edge of the cliff something dark is hunched over, slightly darker than the sky behind it. James's boots squish on the rain-soaked ground.

Kal is sitting with his arms around his knees, head bowed, facing out toward the violently tossing sea. His body shakes occasionally. He hears James as he approaches. "Stop!" he cries, and his voice seems to James to be filled with agony. "Go! Get out of here!" He lowers his head and his shoulders shake again. James hears a sob through the sound of the waves and rain.

He sits down next to Kal, adopting the same pose and resting his chin on his forearms. A few feet away a wave collides with the cliffside, throwing up a shower of spray. He sits quietly and watches as lightning forks down to the water, far away.

Beside him Kal pulls in a breath, his voice shaking. "Why won't you listen? It's not safe for you here. Can't you see what I did, what I _am_?!" He chokes, looking away. "Go. Please. Get as far away from me as you can."

James turns to face him. "I'm not going anywhere, Kal," he says quietly.

Kal's head whips around. "You have to! Didn't you see? I killed them, James! I killed them all! I, I, _oh Keelah James, I killed them all..._"

James puts his arms around Kal, and he holds him there on the cliff as he begins to cry, his tears mixing with the rain and the sea water and the blood.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

A harsh wind rakes its fingers through the trees, rattling branches and driving needles of rain into both mens' faces as they climb the stony path back up to the cave. Kal leans heavily on James's shoulder, his bare feet sliding on the gravel. They force their way through the wind and rain, finally reaching the mouth of the cave. Kal slumps wearily to the relatively dry ground, hugging his knees to his chest and shivering quietly. James passes him a bundle he's been carrying, conscientiously looking away. "Here," he says. "Put these on. I, well, I picked them up back there. You know." Kal accepts the cargo pants, mutely pulling them on.

James watches the rain for a little while. The moon glows softly from behind the clouds, casting a silver tint over the darkness. "I guess this is really happening," he says eventually. He laughs, a dry sound that gets stuck in his throat. "Now I know what they did to you, and I know where the other one came from. Off world, ha. It came from off world, alright. From the Migrant fleet."

"You shouldn't be here," says Kal, his voice hoarse. "Why didn't you stay away? You saw what I, what I _was_. I could have killed you, James. I could still! You can't be near me."

James turns to face Kal. Anguish is written across the quarian's face. "No you won't," says James. "Yeah, I was afraid at first. I was afraid because I didn't know what was going on. I'm not afraid of _you_, Kal. I'm still not a hundred percent sure what happened back there, but I do know it wasn't your fault. Some seriously fucked up people did this to you, but you're still the same person. Fuck, I care about you, and I'm not gonna let you deal with this alone." He looks away again. "I don't know if you feel the way I do, but it doesn't matter. You're still the only person in the entire universe who cares at all about me." _However much that may be._

…

Kal's skin is cold, but beneath it he can still feel the dreadful fire. It recedes slowly, gradually burning out as the chaos of angry voices fades from his mind. As the screaming dies away it leaves him empty, his mind like the space in a crater after a shell impact. The cold is within him as well as without and he stares silently at the storm outside the cave, feeling all of his thoughts sucking inward into a whirlpool of despair.

He looks up when James speaks, his eyes easily picking out the man's features in the gloom. As he listens he feels a tiny fracture open in the ice he is filled with, and a hint of light appears. James finishes, his eyes cast downward, looking slightly abashed. _He's nervous. As if I might tell him to leave again. _But Kal realizes that the human is right. The transformation brought with it a moment of terrible clarity, and in it he had been guided by more than blind rage. When the mind of the beast was upon him everything was broken down into perfect simplicity, and at the center of it all was James. _You are the only thing that doesn't suck_, thinks Kal. _And I know I don't deserve you. But I can't let you go._

He wonders, almost absentmindedly, what it is he is feeling. He has had friends before but this something different. It is certainly unlike the way he felt with Lira, confused, frightened at his own emptiness. He blinks, suddenly realizing that he knows exactly what he feels. He smiles slightly. It is so far from anything he would have predicted, but it makes a kind of sense that is at once beautiful and undeniable.

…

James feels his heart sink as he watches the rain fall outside the cave. _I've said it_, he thinks._ It's __done, and now he can tell me he doesn't... doesn't... well at least I'll know I said it. I couldn't have lived with myself if I didn't say anything._

"I don't want you to go, James," says Kal.

James shuts his eyes, not bothering to brush away his hair as it falls over his face. _Don't let yourself hope. It will only hurt more. _"Yeah," he says, trying and failing to keep an even voice. "Well, in the morning we can go looking for the rest of your people. We'll blow up those freaks and their gravity well, then I'll be off to some prison somewhere." His mouth twists in a strained attempt at a smile. "I guess it won't be too bad. I don't really have anywhere else to go."

"No," says Kal, and James feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head a little, his breath catching in his throat. "I don't want you to go," repeats Kal gruffly. "Not now, not after we get off this hellhole."

James really looks up this time. Kal is watching him closely. His bare torso is painted with mud and dried blood, his pale hair plastered down by the rain. The quarian's silver irises glow faintly and he smiles softly, meeting James's gaze. "I'm not good with words," he says apologetically.

James raises his hand, clasping the one on his shoulder. He smiles, and this time there is happiness behind it. "Don't say anything then," he whispers. "Don't say anything, and maybe everything will be alright."

Kal doesn't say anything. Instead he lifts his free hand to James's face and gently brushes the hair out of his eyes. Then suddenly he leans in and James feels his heart skip a beat as Kal's lips press against his own. His eyes close of their own accord and it seems as if the ground is suddenly very far away.

Outside the cave the rain falls, unheeded.

…

James wakes slowly. Dreams brush at him like feathers as they fade away, dreams not of the cold forest or the blood and fear but of a warm body in his arms, the tickle of hair on his neck, the brush of a stubbled cheek against his own. He opens his eyes lazily, blinking away sleep with a little reluctance.

The warmth is gone from beside him. He looks up to the mouth of the cave, where the morning light frames Kal's body in gold. The quarian is standing at the edge of the cave, looking silently out at the forest. James lets his eyes wander over Kal's body, from his muscled shoulders down to the contoured lines of his waist. He doesn't know how long they lay together the previous night, sharing the simple gifts of closeness and warmth. He does remember drifting into sleep, his arms wrapped around Kal, the quarian's head resting on his chest.

Despite the blood staining Kal's skin, he shows no signs of injury or infection. _Whatever they put in him, it's fixing his body. His immune system, too. Does that mean..._ James stops. He won't allow himself to think that far ahead. _He's going through absolute hell right now. You can't know how much he wants from... from this, if he even wants anything. Just be happy with what you have now. _He rises slowly, stretching out his aching joints, and joins Kal at the edge of the cave.

The scent of pines drifts in from outside. Kal closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath through his nose, seeming to suck in the morning air. His face glows in the sunlight, and for just a moment he looks peaceful. Then his eyes open. He cocks his head, meeting James's eyes and smiling slightly. "Morning," he says.

James avoids his eyes, trying to hide the pinkness coming to his ears. "I don't suppose you made coffee."

Kal looks back to the line of treetops. "Looks like we're all out." His voice takes on a more serious tone. "You ready to head out?"

James surveys the forest below them. "Not much use in hanging around here, is there?" He says.

Kal nods. "Let's go then." He steps toward the path, then stops and looks back at James over his shoulder. For a moment he seems about to say something. Instead he smiles again, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that makes James's legs feel like jelly. Then he turns and steps out into the morning.

…

Kal winces, pausing yet again to pull a tiny barb out of his foot. The forest floor is littered with wickedly sharp instruments of torture, tree cones and needles and tiny jagged rocks and a million other varieties of natural caltrops. To him it seems that the forest is taking special pleasure in tormenting him, the unwelcome outsider.

Kal reaches out a hand to steady himself as he ducks under a low branch. Apart from the pain in his feet, being in the open air like this is exhilarating. He finds himself reaching out now and then to run his hand along the bark of a tree, to rub a sheet of hanging moss between his fingers. The sheer quantity of sensation is incredible, and it is as if he is seeing the world for the first time. He has only a broad idea of their direction, but nevertheless Kal feels his spirit lift as he and James make their way onward through the trees.

His thoughts turn to James. He feels a twist of excitement and happiness as he thinks of the dark-haired human behind him. Kal has never thought of other men as attractive, never looked for a mate among his own sex. _But why not_, he thinks. When he was with Lira, he felt as if he was expected to be happy, expected to feel things he never felt. Perhaps he has been flying blind, but the rush of joy he felt after the kiss leaves him with little doubt. He does not know why things went wrong with Lira, or if they would have been different under different circumstances, but it doesn't matter. Someone has come into his life bringing a light he has never known, but at this moment he cannot imagine living without it. And if that person should happen to be male, what of it?

What he should truly be concerned about is the difference of species. Acts of intimacy among quarians are very limited, and adding a whole new species to the equation just makes everything more complicated. From the stories Kal has heard, interspecies romances are a nightmare of antibiotics and long, embarrassing doctor's-office visits.

He pauses, stepping carefully over a caterpillar with long tufts of black and white fur. For a moment he is transfixed by the creature's beauty, staring happily at it as it inches its way across the path. He shakes his head and strides on, smiling to himself. _You've gone crazy. Absolutely insane. Kal'reegar, staring at caterpillars. Shouldn't be thinking about taking antibiotics anyway. Well, not _that _kind of antibiotics. I don't have a clue how this is supposed to work, but I'm not going to screw it up._

…

The sun ambles across the sky, tarrying for a while at its apex, in no hurry to be anywhere. The thunderheads of the night have dispersed, leaving behind wisps of pearly white. The sunlight breaks through the gently shifting trees, warming the companions' faces and coaxing the dampness out of their clothing. The ground underfoot is spongy, covered with large patches of moss, and it is a pleasant change after the rocky soil they have left behind.

They have been walking in comfortable silence for two hours, by Kal's reckoning. He can feel himself getting more on edge as time passes though, unable to shake the doubt that they may not even be traveling in the right direction. When next he rounds a thick group of trees however, the doubt vanishes. They have come upon a small clearing, and in its center a metal pole sticks out of the earth. It stands at an angle, the light at its top a dim flicker, but the ground still shows signs of their brief struggle.

Kal turns in a circle until his eyes pick out the path he and James took from the quarian camp, what seems like weeks ago. He sets off at a jog, not waiting for James to catch up. _They've got to have the dish up by now. I just hope Zarra didn't take off without me._ _They've got to have left somebody behind at the command center. They'll show us which way he went. _His feet pound against the turf as he breaks into a run, a sense of urgency suddenly coming over him. Another thought has been building in the back of his mind, and it gives him extra speed. _Zarra doesn't know about the hunters. I have to warn him, got to find him before they do!_

…

James breaks out of the woods after Kal, and for a second he stands with his hands on his knees, panting for breath. When he looks up Kal is standing a few feet away, his body rigid.

James straightens up, his eyes sweeping over the clearing. The first thing he notices is the silence. A quiet hangs over the camp that is almost absolute, no footsteps or distant voicesto break the stillness.

The next thing he notices is the blood.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I would like to apologize to everyone for the unreasonably long delay. It will not happen again.

Here is Chapter 14. I hope you will find it was worth the wait.

**Chapter 14**

Kal stares around the deserted camp, his mouth unable to form words. In the back of his head the panic rises as his eyes take in the scene all around them. Blast craters pockmark the sides of the shuttles. Expended heat sinks litter the ground like tiny glittering seedcones. Trails of red mar the grass, drying in the mid afternoon sunlight. More blood paints the sides of the ships, but there are no bodies to be found anywhere.

Kal turns away from the tableau, meeting James's eyes. The human's face is ashen, his eyes wide. _There goes our ride home, _thinks Kal. _He knows there's no way off this world without them._

James steps past him, looking around as if in a daze. After a moment he turns around, looking at Kal frankly. "Well, we'd better get going."

Kal blinks. "What? Get going where?"

"We have to rescue them!" James replies emphatically. "We don't know what the hunters will do to them, but I have a pretty good idea." He gives Kal a meaningful look. "This didn't happen too long ago. Some of these blast points are still warm."

Kal nods. He feels a pang of guilt as he realizes he had assumed James would only have his own concerns in mind. _You ought to know better than that by now. _He looks around again, his mind still struggling to process the sudden turn of events. He shakes himself. "You're right. We have to try. If we follow their trail we can at least find the hunters' base. Then we can..." He pauses. "I don't know. We'll think of something."

"Thinking," remarks James. "That's a start, anyway. I know it's not what you're used to, but I'm glad you've decided to give it a chance."

Despite the carnage surrounding them, Kal feels his lips twist into a half-smile. "Yeah, I guess it might be worth a try." _Only you could make me smile at a time like this,_ he thinks. _What is that worth?_ Kal strides to the edge of the camp, searching for a trail. He has the feeling it's worth more than he can know.

…

James is only half-focused on the world around him. The other half of his mind is still remembering last night, remembering the kiss, and the simple joy of falling asleep in the arms of the person you care for the most in all the universe. When they stumbled out of the woods and into this scene of destruction he remembers wondering how things can change so quickly from bleak to wonderful and back again. He supposes now, as they follow the path of blood streaks and broken branches, that it is simply the way of the universe. _If there is a god, _he thinks absently, _then it is not a god that cares much for the fates of men like me._

He and Kal move down the path at a fast walk. More thermal clips are scattered along the way, and occasionally they come across trees scorched from small arms fire. "This looks like a retreat," he points out to Kal. "They were chased out of their camp, but they put up a fight."

"They could still be," says Kal, his voice strained. "We need to hurry!"

James quickens his stride, not asking what they will do if they run straight into a battle in progress. He knows Kal has no plan either, just the need to move. So they move.

…

The sounds reach them first. A whining drone filters through the trees, accompanied by another sound that James cannot place. Kal gives a shout, doubling his pace and racing on ahead of James. James follows, sprinting to catch up. The drone grows louder, and James nearly falls forward as the loamy soil gives way to pebbles and scree. He slides, throwing out his arms, and when he regains his balance and looks up he nearly falls again.

Kal stands ten paces away, feet splayed and looking upward at the source of the now almost deafening noise. They have reached the end of the land. Not forty paces form where Kal stands the rocky ground slips away. Beyond it waves roll across an aquamarine sea, breaking against the rock face with a continuous muted roar.

Above the water hangs a giant black buzzard of a craft. Its four enclosed rotors beat the air, throwing up pillars of spray beneath them and creating a droning pulse that drowns out all other sound. The craft dips, and James watches transfixed as it swoops in toward the cliff's edge. Its decent slows, lowering its belly onto the stony ledge. Something _clunk_s within and a ramp begins to lower.

James finally breaks out of his trance, forcing his body to move. He darts forward, grabbing onto Kal's arm. The quarian is frozen stalk still, his hair blowing back into James's face, his eyes fixed on the hover craft. "Come on!" cries James, his voice lost in the blast of the rotors. He pulls at Kal's arm, but he will not be moved. "Kal!" screams James. The ramp of the craft lowers, a pair of armored figures emerging from within.

James lets his arm fall limp. He hangs his head, drawing a deep breath as the hunters step toward them. Beside him he feels Kal shift, and the quarian's fingers slip between his own. He thinks he can almost hear Kal say something, but the words are carried away by the wind. James feels the hand squeeze tightly around his own, then pain explodes across his chest and the world drops away.

…

Sound reaches Kal's ears from far away. It grows louder and closer, swimming toward him through his confused consciousness. There is a hum surrounding him, deep and resonating. A staccato _click click click_ comes from somewhere before him, but he cannot place it.

Slowly he cracks open one eye. He is in a dark metal room. Across from him a bench runs along the wall. Two humans in dark green plated armor recline on it, their helmeted heads turned away from him. Kal's eye refocuses. One of the hunters is tapping the toe of his boot against the steel flooring. _Click_ He still can't figure where the humming is coming from. It seems to fill the room.

Kal wants to check to bench beside him, to see if James is with them, but something inside his fuzzied mind tells him that revealing he's awake would be a poor idea. Surprise might be the only advantage he has.

Feeling is beginning to come back to his body, with the exception of his chest and a spot at the base of his neck. _Darts. They must've hit me in the chest and neck. _He risks another quick look around, keeping his head low and still. The hunters are still lounging disinterestedly against the far wall. _They __don't look ready for me though. Did I wake up early? _He recalls the speed at which his wounds healed the previous day. With the memory comes the sobering realization that his body is not his own any longer. _Whatever they put in me, it's in control now. _

Kal's arms are stuck behind his back. Very carefully he tries to move his wrists, but something is holding them. He relaxes his arms, keeping his breathing even and slow. He thinks again of James, remembers the human's frantic attempts to pull him away. He tries to put it from his mind, desperately hoping that his gamble will pay off. It is the only way. He knows that he and James have next to no chance of finding the hunter's base, much less launching an assault on it from the outside. The only way to take down the gravity well generator will be from the inside.

The floor of the room suddenly lurches sickeningly and Kal is nearly thrown from the bench. In front of him he hears the hunters' boots clatter on the deck. One of them shouts to someone Kal hadn't noticed, his voice distorted slightly by his helmet's filters. "Hey, take it easy! What are you trying to do, kill us?"

Another voice calls back from Kal's left. "Calm down! It's like this every time we submerge, most people get used to it by the fourth time! Are you guys thick or what?"

"Can it, wise-ass, unless you want to spend the night with the subjects."

"Oh yeah, and I guess you'll drive this thing after they eat me, huh?"

Kal has to stop himself from frowning in confusion. _Submerge? Drive this thing? Where..._

Kal's thoughts are cut off by a burst of static off to his left. "Team bravo, come in," demands a garbled voice.

Boots clank on the deck from right to left. "We read you," answers a hunter. "Second sweep was positive. Two marks, both sedated: one alien and one human. The quarian's missing its suit, looks like the same two we picked up before."

Kal feels his heart quicken. _James! He's alive!_

"And the human is still alive? I had thought... Well, this is most intriguing." The voice muses. "Good work. You are cleared to dock. I want the quarian brought up to the command center as soon as you get in."

"And the human, sir?" asks the hunter.

"What? Oh, yes. Throw it in with the others, I may have a use for it later."

"Yes sir," says the hunter. The staticy transmission cuts off and Kal feels the floor dip again. His head swims as he tries to absorb everything he has just heard. A booming _clunk_ resounds through the room. Footsteps sound again, and the hunter speaks to his comrade. "Come on, let's wake them up."

Kal holds still, trying not to tense, and then there's a sharp pinch on the inside of his arm and his eyes slam open. He gasps, feeling as if someone has hooked his fingers up to en electric current. His heart beats frantically and he fights to keep his breathing under control. The hunter pulls away, returning an empty syringe to his belt. "Yeah, this one's awake," he says. "Get the human."

Kal takes the opportunity to look around while he waits for his heart rate to return to normal. He sees now that he is not in a room, but the interior of a vehicle. _The hover craft. Something about submerging... Are we underwater?_ To his left the wall opens onto a pilot's cabin. To his right he sees James being awakened in a similar fashion. Like Kal, his wrists are bound behind him in wall-mounted shackles. Kal hangs his head slightly, trying to appear as if not fully awake. _Wait for the right moment. You can prob'ly overpower one of 'em. Get your hands on his gun and you might just stand a chance._

There is another clunk, and the right wall begins to lower like a ramp. Kal squints as brighter light floods the dim hold. One of the hunters moves to his side, grabbing Kal's arm roughly. The manacles click and Kal feels them fall away from his wrists. The hunter pulls him upright and Kal stands, making his motions slow and sluggish. Ahead of him the other hunter leads James down the ramp into the light outside. Kal is lead out behind him. He blinks, his eyes adjusting to the light.

They are in a small hangar. The walls and floor are shiny white metal, cold under his bare feet. As the hunters lead Kal and James away toward a door on the other side of the hangar Kal looks back. A pair of docking arms extend from the ceiling, clamped onto the bulky hovercraft. Kal sees that the craft's wings have retracted and the rotor housings are angled backward. Behind the transport a large black airlock dominates the wall.

They reach the door. The first hunter swipes his omni-tool in front of the lock and it slides open, revealing a small anti-chamber. Kal and James are herded inside and a hunter shuts the door behind them. The other man raises his forearm, speaking into his omni-tool. "Director," he says. "Bravo team and subjects inside. Requesting authorization."

There is a portal set in the back wall of the chamber. Over the door frame a light blinks red. A beam of light sweeps over the four of them, making two passes before it is apparently satisfied and the light flashed green. "Access granted," says the voice from the hunter's omni-tool. "Dump the human in holding and bring the quarian to me."

The hunter nods, and to Kal's right another door hisses open. Kal's eyes dart to it; through it lies yet another door, but he knows that that is where he'll find Commander Zarra. _If they're still alive. _He eyes the hunters, trying to gauge the situation. One of them grabs James by the wrists and begins to push him toward the open door. _It's now or never,_ supplies Kal's mind. _Act now and save everyone, or lose them all forever._ He takes a deep breath.

The first hunter is caught off guard. He fails to react in time when Kal twists his wrists, gripping the hunter's own. With a grunt of exertion Kal drops his weight, pulling down and sending the hunter tumbling over his shoulder. The armored human is heavier than he expected and it throws him off balance, so Kal gives into gravity and falls to the deck, his hands still around the hunter's wrist. The man is stunned, his mind still catching up with his body. Kal takes advantage of the split second it affords him, swinging his legs across the man's chest and trapping the arm between his thighs. He plants his feet on the floor and yanks back hard, using his hips for leverage. He is rewarded by a loud _crack_ and a muffled scream as the human's elbow breaks.

Kal twists away even as the other hunter's metal-shod foot slams into the deck inches from his head. He stumbles over the writhing body of the injured hunter, catching his feet as he tries to stand. He raises his hands, too late to stop the pistol butt as it swings toward him. There is an instant of blinding pain, and then nothing.

…

Kal wakes with a throbbing pain in his head and ribs. _This,_ he thinks darkly. _Is really getting old. _Really_ old. _He opens his eyes. The room around him comes into focus worryingly slowly. He is in a dim, circular room. A glass strip runs around the room at head height, but nothing Kal sees through it makes any sense. He turns his attention to the room itself. It is of medium size, bare save for a semi-circle of computer consoles at its center. In the center of the semi-circle a man sits with his back to Kal. His head is shaved, and he wears a long gray coat.

Kal gives moving a try. As he thought, he is bound yet again. He is upright this time, wrists and ankles locked to a vertical slab behind him. The man in the gray coat begins to turn, his chair swiveling around to face Kal, and the simple act fills him with dread. He has the sudden memory of being trapped like this before, of needles and unbearable, never-ending pain. The man rises, approaching Kal with a pleasant smile on his face. "Hello," he says. "I see that you're awake. You may call me the Director. Your own name is not important."

Kal locks his jaw. He feels his arms trembling with equal parts anger and fear.

The Director strides to the window, facing away from Kal. "Do you like the view?" he asks. "This planet has some very interesting undersea fauna. Something like sharks, I believe, but their skin is quite unique. It changes colors, all the hues of the rainbow. Do not get excited though, you will not see any today. I set the automatic defenses to kill them on sight." He turns to Kal, on his face the rueful expression of the parent of an underachieving child. "Interesting, but useless."

He paces back to the chair, seating himself and crossing his legs comfortably. "So much of life is useless," he says almost sadly. "So many things content to go about their lives, fulfilling their basic survival needs, content to be insignificant. They do not _inquire_, they do not _do_ anything. They merely serve to perpetuate their own tiny, meaningless existences, their greatest aspiration to someday create more insignificant copies of themselves. Such a vicious cycle cannot be called life, for if that is life then for what do we live? It is enough to drive a man mad."

Kal narrows his eyes. _He's insane,_ he thinks dully. _And I'm at his mercy._

The man smiles apologetically. "I do not mean to bore you with philosophy, but now that I have begun I feel I must finish." He steeples his fingers, looking Kal in the eye. "This realization troubled me for some time. I came to believe there was no hope in this universe, that this cycle I perceived would continue without end for all eternity. But then, many years ago, I had a revelation. You see, beings like you, like the sharks and ants and every other miserable carbon-based organism, you are not true life! It is so obvious I should have seen it sooner. You and the sharks are simply failed models, flawed during creation and lacking the spark of purpose that makes one truly alive, truly an individual. I am one of the few truly successful beings, blessed and cursed to know purpose in the midst of idiocy and chaos.

"Do not be disappointed, however. After my first epiphany, I was able to see the universe much more clearly. Beings such as yourself may still serve a purpose, although of course it cannot be your own. You may be of use to beings of true purpose, whatever value you may possess can still be channeled into worthy causes! So you must understand that true beings such as myself are now forced to make distinctions: between what in the plethora of failed experiments is useful and can be salvaged, and what is not. It is clear that is they are not useful, these things serve no purpose at all. I fthey are destroyed, it is only a boon to the universe. The removal of useless clutter. Do you understand?"

Kal says nothing. He can think of nothing to say in the face of such complete and obvious lunacy. _How can I escape this madman? He likes the sound of his own voice, that's for sure. Maybe I can distract him for long enough... but then what?_

The Director shakes his head, his bald scalp glinting in the dim light. "No, I can see that you do not. No matter. There is one man at least who understands. He was able to see the value of my purpose, and it was he that gave me this facility. Do not ask me his name, I do not know it. No one does."

The Director turns his head, staring out the window. He is silent for some time, and when he speaks again his voice sounds dreamy. "There is a legend, from long-ago Earth. It tells of a man, a typical human man, without merit or use, the ordinary dreck of the galaxy. But in this tale the man undergoes a transformation. Forces beyond his control take hold of him, change him, shape him into something with value, something _better_. And the other humans?" The Director chuckles, his voice lowering. "Why, they fear him. Of course they fear him. Such a being serves to remind them of their own shortcomings and inadequacies, of their _uselessness._

_ "_I became fascinated with this story. I wondered if such a transformation was possible. Could creatures like you be redesigned, re purposed into something of worth and use? Could I take the filings from the sculpture and mold them into a pedestal on which it would stand? Not many thought I could. They laughed, oh how they laughed. They told me I was insane. Well, not to my face, but I knew they were thinking it. It is the defense of their kind, of your kind. Say that I am insane, that my grand vision is no more than a madman's rantings, and you spare yourself having to face the harsh reality of your own futility.

"But there was one who believed in me. He listened to my ideas, without contempt or fear. He listened, and then he told me that his organization had a place for a man like me. I knew then that I had found another like me, another with purpose and direction. He set me up in this lab, gave me the tools and the funds to make my dream a reality. And it will be a reality. I wish ou could see it, I wish you could share in a glimpse of the glory my eyes alone are privy to. You cannot see it, but you will be a part of it. All of you will be. My benefactor wants soldiers, fighters and killers. He does not see the full potential of my dream, but it is a start. He shall have his soldiers, and then when the galaxy is ruled by men of reason and purpose then we can begin to _fix_ you, to shape you into something we can use. Oh, if you could only see it."

Kal grits his teeth. He has had enough. "Where is the human," he spits. "What did you do with him?"

The Director looks at him curiously. "Yes, I was meaning to ask you about that. I had thought that after 83B reached optimum virulence it would cause in you the uncontrollable blood lust it brought on in the last subject. It seems however that moral inhibitions remained. How curious. It does seem as if the tracking chip we implanted in your neck has malfunctioned. I wonder if that is the cause."

"What did you do with him?" repeats Kal.

"Ahh," says the Director. "I believe I can put it together now. Yes, this is another defect beings like you suffer from. It is called love, and it is clear that you are under its influence. How sad. You poor, underdeveloped creature, can you not see that the two of you are incompatible? Even if you were of the same species, two males together have no hope of reproduction." He shakes his head. "Never mind that now. Despite your many flaws, I will put you to use. You will not be whole, but try to draw comfort from the idea of serving a purpose greater than you can comprehend. I imagine you believe in a god or gods. Most of you do. Think of me as a god then, walking among mortal men. You shall be an element of the manifestation of my grand design."

"Where is he?" growls Kal. "If you've hurt him-"

The Director reaches out and pats Kal on his trembling shoulder. "I have told you to forget about that. I had thought the human would perhaps be useful, but no, now I think not. It will be disposed of, there is no need to clutter up the facility with unwanted refuse."

Kal struggles against his bonds, pulling with all his might even though he knows it is futile. The Director watches him struggle for a moment. "If you are thinking of trying to force a transition," he says after a while. "Then let me inform you that it will be futile. When you were brought up here I administered a damping solution to dull the effects of the tincture. It will block the pathways of the mind required to trigger a change. Be still, or you may injure yourself. I must go and attend to something, I will return shortly." He rises and departs the room without giving Kal a backward glance.

It is not a moment before the Director is back. He enters the room through a door Kal cannot see, and then strides around the consoles to face the quarian. "It is done," he says, a faint smile playing across his lips. "Your friend shall not cause us further distraction."

His words hit Kal like a physical blow, knocking the wind from his lungs. He feels suddenly impossibly empty, his insides filled with nothing but cold, dead space. He falls forward, hanging limply in his shackles. _It is done._ The Director's words ring in his head, bouncing back and forth. _It is done. It is done._ There are no thoughts, only those three words filling every empty, desolate corner of him. His eyes seem to lose focus.

And then they are focused again, the Director's face filling his vision. A tiny spark snaps inside his stomach, a tiny light in the vast empty darkness.

The Director leans a little closer, eyeing Kal with mild curiosity. "What, exactly, are you feeling right now?" he asks politely. "I should like to know, for the purposes of scientific inquiry."

Kal does not hear him. The spark has grown, building into flames that lick at his insides. They burn hotter and brighter, filling him with an inferno of rage and hate. He bares his teeth, a wordless snarl escaping his throat. The fire expands, running down his veins and filling his limbs. He feels something, just on the fringe of his consciousness, the merest twitch of power, just out of his reach.

And then it is gone. As quickly as it grew the fire burns away, the spark winks out. Kal falls forward again, the strength gone from his body. The anger, the hate, they are gone too. All that he feels is cold.

"I told you," says the Director knowingly. "But you had to see for yourself, didn't you. I applaud you for trying, and it was a decent effort. Excuse me a moment, I must enter a few calculations. Then we will continue. I shall have to extract the tincture from your body before it bonds to your genetic structure. Otherwise it would be much more difficult to dispose of you! The serum you carry in your veins is valuable, as well. It must not go to waste." He turns away, bending over the computer consoles.

Kal's mind is a field of ice. Before his eyes images float by. James's face, twisted into his usual half-smile, self-deprecating and sarcastic. He remembers the night before, although it seems like an eternity ago now, remembers the fluttering pull he felt in the pit of his stomach, remembers the warmth of James's lips against his own. He remembers sitting there in the cave, his back pressed against the stony wall, James leaning against his chest, waiting for sleep to overtake them. He remembers the feeling that came over him then, that whatever this planet threw at them it didn't matter, because they would face it together. A terrible sadness fills him, a wind to howl above the frozen plane. And with the sorrow is another feeling, softer but at the same time infinitely more strong. _Love. Yes, James, I love you. There is not a single person in this universe I have ever felt this for, but it must be love. I know it is._

Kal feels a tingle, seeming to spread from his chest out through his arms to the tips of his fingers. A little bit of warmth pulses inside him at the thought of the human who, in the span of six short days has become the center of his universe, the point around which everything else revolved. Memories continue to flood back, feeding the glow until it is a star burning within his chest, driving out the cold. Warm, gentle heat flows outward, filling him with strength. Whispered words dance through his mind, melting the ice away. _So this is love. So I can feel it, after all. _His fingers close almost of their own accord, clenching into fists. _There is still time. I can still save you._

The pulsing light within him swells, the tingling building into an almost electric thrum. Kal raises his eyes slowly, leveling them at the back of the Director's shaved head. "You will not take him from me."

The words fall from his lips quietly, and the Director half-turns, his expression disinterested. "Hmm?"

Kal clenches his teeth. The electric feeling is growing uncontrollably, and he has to fight to keep his muscles still. A buzzing is growing in the back of his head, making thinking difficult. It doesn't matter though. There is only one thought, only one purpose.

The Director turns away again. "If there is something you wish to say, you will have to speak up. Quickly though, you do not have much time. The extraction is-"

"_You will not take him from me!_" roars Kal, the sound taring from his throat and echoing through the small room. The Director spins around, a frown on his face.

"Easy now. Do not excite yourself, it will only make the extraction more difficult. The cuffs are secure, I assure you."

Kal isn't listening. The buzzing in his head is almost deafening, and the electric heat is rising becoming unbearable. His spine arches and his fists spring open, fingers splayed out rigid.

The Director steps closer, leaning in to examine the shackles behind Kal's back. "No," he mutters. "Not possible. The tincture has not had time to bond, it will not..."

In Kal's vision the light fades in and out. He feels his muscles burning, straining at the restraints and ignoring his commands. The pulse in his chest grows stronger, filling his whole body with its driving rhythm. He feels as if he is being pushed in every direction at once, unable to move in any of them.

The Director takes a step back, then another. He looks up at Kal, his eyes wide. "No," he murmurs. "No, it is not possible! The—the serum, it cannot fail! I cannot have erred, it is not..."

There is a mighty _crack_ as Kal feels the manacles break off of his straining forearms, first the left and then the right. The pounding has receded slightly. He gives his left ankle a jerk, freeing it from the flimsy metal bands. The smell in this room is wrong, like death and chemicals. He does not wish to be trapped here any longer. He raises his head, a familiar face meeting his eyes.

The Director is stumbling backward, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. "Not—not—possible-" he stammers, staring at Kal.

Kal gives his right ankle a tug, snapping the last remaining shackle. He takes a step forward, giving the air another sniff. The man before him carries the chemical scent, too. He is steeped in it, and in the odor of death. Kal feels his muzzle wrinkle in disgust.

The Director's back hits the edge of the computer console. He reaches inside his coat, fumbling for something. His eyes roll in panic, his hands shaking as they withdraw a shiny metal pistol. He struggles to level it at Kal, the barrel weaving wildly. "Stay back! Stay-"

The first swipe of Kal's arm tares a thick gouge in the man's throat. He strikes again, his arm a blur, claws biting deep, and the Director's head separates from his shoulders. It hists the floor and tumbles away, the ashy face still frozen in shock. The gray-coated body slumps to the floor with a _thud_.

Kal looks around. He knows there is something he should be doing. From beneath the mire a word floats up slowly to the surface, a name. _James._

Kal remembers. He focuses on the name, grabbing onto it and using it to pull himself up, out of the quicksand his consciousness has become. With all his strength he focuses, pushing the beast back, driving its presence from his mind. He feels the change coming over his body, skin and bone grudgingly shifting, and for a second the burning returns. Then it is gone and he is himself once more. Kal sinks down to the deck, clothed only in the tattered remains of the pirate's trousers, torn at the knees where his legs took on a different shape. A shiver runs down his spine as the warmth of the transition leaves him, and he closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, regaining his strength. Then he stands and strides to the hidden door, kicking aside the lifeless body of the Director. "Hold on," he whispers. "Hold on, James. I'm coming."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **We are not done just yet...

**Chapter 15**

The man stands slouched against the door, idly running a gloved finger up and down the side of his rifle. The shoulders of the green-plated armor suit he wears are just a little too small, and he shifts his weight against the doorframe. _How much is this job _really_ worth,_ he wonders. _All I do is stand here and guard a bunch of half-dead aliens. They're not going anywhere. _He frowns behind his helmet's tinted visor. _This is fucked up. I could be doing mine security, a real job. But no, Carla has to have her damn expensive fish. She cares more about those little fucks than she does about me. Why did I ever-_

The man's thoughts are cut off as a hand reaches around the front of his helmet. He blinks at the pale purple skin, his mind trying to catch up, and then the fingers blur and stretch and suddenly _claws _are plunged into his visor, cracking through the glass and gouging at his face. He screams, backpedaling and raising his hands to his helmet. His rifle is pulled away from him as he tries to free himself, and then two loud cracks ring out. He falls, hitting the floor hard. The ceiling grows further and further away. _Fuck your fish, Carla,_ thinks the man as he feels his life slipping away from him. _Fuck your fish._

…

Commander Stefar'Zarra hears the shots from within the cell he shares with two of the other marines. One of them is unconscious and the other has a severe gunshot wound in his right leg. Zarra has used one of his ammunition belts to fashion a makeshift tourniquet, but it is likely the man will lose his leg. Zarra doesn't know much about the place they're in now. He was in the command center when the hunters made their assault on the camp. He rushed to join the battle, but the quarians were quickly outmatched. Pinned down by sniper fire, a third of the company gave covering fire while the rest retreated back through the woods. They pressed through the forest, hounded by their unknown attackers at every turn. Zarra saw them collecting the dead and fatally wounded and dragging them away, to where he didn't know. They had fallen back as far as they could, until there was nothing but a sheer cliff face at their backs. It was there the marines had formed up to make their last stand, but the hunters never emerged from the forest. Instead the quarians were met by precisely fired hypodermic darts. Within moments the entire squad was unconscious. Zarra hears the occasional groaning voice from across the hall, but the two hunters patrolling the hallway between the staggered lines of cells will not allow them to talk. At least he knows the are here, and at least some of them remain alive. For how long, he does not know.

Zarra moves to the glass, pressing his head against it to get a better view. A muffled clatter follows the shots, sounding as if it comes from the other side of a door. An armored hunter strides past, heading down the hall toward the disturbance. He cranes his neck, but the human passes out of view.

"What's going on out there?" he hears the hunter say. There's a click, perhaps a door unlocking, and then the creak of metal hinges. "What's—aghh!" A volley of gunshots echo down the hallway to Zarra's cell. There's shouting to his left at the opposite end of the corridor. Armored boots clatter against the deck, and then a brilliant blue tracer bullet flashes past Zarra's view. Several more shots ring out, and he hears someone fall heavily to his left.

Footsteps pad down the hall toward him, much more quietly. Zarra takes a step back from the glass, crouching into a fighting stance. He winces at a stab of pain from his hip where a rifle shot grazed the bone. _Keelah, what now?_

A figure steps into view on the other side of the glass. Commander Zarra's mouth falls open. Before him stands quarian man. His only attire is a pair of ragged pants, torn off at the knees. His bare torso is splattered with blood, and in his crimson-stained hands he holds a steaming assault rifle. His tangled silver hair outlines an equally wild expression. He looks at Zarra and his eyes seem to focus. He takes a step back, saluting sharply. "Sir!"

Zarra shuts his mouth. He opens it, then shuts it again. "Kal?!" he exclaims finally, his voice disbelieving. "Kal'Reegar?!"

Kal holds his salute. "Sir!" he repeats. "Got any orders at the present time, sir?"

Zarra shakes himself, getting a hold on his spinning thoughts. "Orders are to get us out of these damn cells!" he barks. "Snap to, soldier!"

Kal shoots a look left down the hall. "Just a moment," he says. He disappears down the hall, then reappears a second later with a key card dangling from a line. He swipes it through a panel Zarra can't see, and the glass slowly begins to lower.

…

Kal waits for the glass to recede halfway, then he tosses Zarra the card he took from the dead hunter. "Here you are, Sir," he says. He gestures back up the hallway. "Through that door and take a left. There's a vehicle of some kind in there, an amphibious aircraft I think."

"Wait!' says Zarra. "Where are we?"

"Underwater," replies Kal. "Sir, is there a human in any of these cells?"

Zarra steps out of the cell. "I don't know," he says. "Reegar, I've got a hundred and one questions for you, but right now I'm not going to ask you a damn thing." He hands Kal back the key card. "I've got to get these men out of here. Start unlocking the other cells. We've got to be quick though; we're not in any fighting shape."

Kal takes the key, turning away and starting off down the line of cells. Some are empty, others have quarians in them. Kal stops at every occupied cell, sliding the card through the number mechanism. The commander is right. Most of the marines are injured in some way; some he doubts will be able to walk at all.

As he nears the end of the hallway a little panicked voice starts up in the back of his head, intensifying with every door he unlocks. _Where is he where is he where is he..._ Kal gets to the second to last cell, his heart pounding in his throat. The tiny room is empty. He turns, eyes going to the final cell, and the glass explodes outward. Kal raises an arm to shield his face as shards of glass cascade around him. When he lowers his arm he sees a turian dressed in gray armor standing at the cell's open threshold. A shimmer hangs in the air around his body, and as Kal watches the turian opens his clenched hands, dispelling the shimmer. He opens his eyes, gazing levelly at Kal. A deep blue line runs down the side of his face.

"Darius," says Kal, taken aback. He quickly gets over his surprise, the panic returning. "Darius, do you know where James is?"

The turian shakes his head. He steps carefully out of the field of debris he's created. "No. I got here some time ago, but I couldn't see much from in there. It's time for a change of scenery."

Kal looks around. A few feet away the corridor terminates in a blank steel wall. "I've got to go," he declares. He looks up at Darius. "Help them get out of here. Please."

Darius surveys the hallway, holding his chin high. He seems to taste the air, then nods slowly. "I have been waiting for the right moment. This, I think, is it." He looks back down at Kal. "I will get your people to safety, Kal'Reegar, but now you must go."

Kal needs no second urging. He takes off down the corridor, his bare feet slapping against the metal deck. He dodges the quarian marines staggering down the hall, pushing past them as they call after him in surprise. He darts through the open door, stopping in the cramped vestibule the guards had taken him and James through earlier. He remembers the Director's orders. "Dump the human in holding."

_They must have moved him! But where? _In front of him is the elevator he took down from the Director's command center. _Three floors, there were three floors!_ Kal tries to force the door open, but it refuses to open from this side. With a growl of frustration he raises the rifle and blasts three holes through the locking mechanism. Slinging the gun's strap over his shoulder he puts his shoulder to the door. It groans in protest, but with a surge of effort he is able to push it back in its frame.

Kal steps into the elevator and pounds the button for the second floor. The elevator rises excruciatingly slowly, finally arriving at his destination with an insulting _ding._ Outside is a hallway leading to the left and right, a doorway at each end. Kal scans the sign quickly. _Barracks to the left, lab to the right._ He sprints down the right passage. The door is locked, but it opens for his key card.

The room inside is dark. Kal pauses, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Around him, things gradually begin to fade into visibility. Tables line one wall, computer monitors blinking dimly. He turns to the right, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. Another table stands to the right, much longer and higher. A dark form lays motionless on its surface. Kal takes a step closer, stopping as he suddenly recognizes the shape. It is the black beast that attacked them in the clearing. It lies with its arms and legs splayed, tied down to the table by magnetic cuffs. Its great animal head lolls to the side, fearsome jaws hanging open slackly. Kal's eyes trail down to the beast's stomach, and his own stomach turns at the sight. The thing's insides have been opened up like a fruit's peel, skin spread apart and pinned down to better show the internal workings. _Who were you,_ thinks Kal. _Not a mythical beast. Not a fantastic monster. Just a victim, a victim of a sick and twisted mind. Just a resource gatherer on a peaceful ship. You didn't ask for this any more than I did. You weren't even a soldier. _

He turns away from the dead thing that was once a crewman of the Valsai and strides to the other side of the room. At the back of the lab all he finds are shelves, lined with bottles and jars of despicable things floating in clear fluid. There is no one here. No one but the dead thing on the table and the silence and the chemical smell in the air. Kal feels himself crumple inside. His body seems suddenly very heavy. He leans against the shelves, his eyes staring at nothing.

There's a scraping sound from the shadows in the corner of the room. Someone coughs gently.

Kal reaches for the grip of his assault rifle, his eyes zeroing in on the noise. "Who's there?" he calls.

The scrape comes again, a sound of metal on metal. "The queen of England," says a familiar sarcastic voice from within the shadows. "Got any more stupid questions?"

Kal feels his heart swell inside his chest, pounding in his ears. He bounds forward, casting the weapon aside. "James!" he cries. He kicks aside a desk, kneeling down next to the patch of shadows. His eyes take a moment to adjust, and when they do it is James's face that greets him.

The human sports a large bruise above his right eye, which has almost swollen shut. Blood trickles down the side of his face from a gash on his temple. Despite his injuries he manages a lopsided grin. "Kal?" he says. "Is that you? I can't see a damned thing!"

Kal answers him by wrapping a hand around the back of the human's neck and drawing him into a fierce kiss. He pulls away after a moment, and James winces, his smile broadening anyway. "Careful," he says. "Everything's a little fragile at the moment." He raises his right hand. His wrist stops short, attached to the wall by a thin metal shackle and a length of chain. "They didn't bother to do me properly," he explains. "Or maybe they just ran out of the fancy cuffs. Anyway, one of those hunter assholes chained me here. A couple minutes ago everyone left in a hurry, and I guess they forgot about me." He shows Kal his other hand. He holds a tiny surgical knife. "I managed to get a hold of this. It's pretty sharp, should be able to cut through-"

Kal grabs the cuff around James's wrist, taking hold of the chain with the other. He pulls, feeling the strength of the beast run through his body, and the chain links snap open. James shrugs. "Okay, that works too." He extends his arm and Kal helps him get to his feet.

"How are you holding up? Can you walk?"

James takes a few unsteady steps. "Yeah, I think so. Whatever tranquilizer they hit me with is taking its time to ware off, though. I'm a little slow, but I can make it."

Kal nods, shutting his eyes for a second. The surge of power a moment ago had come almost frighteningly fast, the feeling of the beast pushing its way eagerly to the surface. _I can control this_, he tells himself. _I can _use_ it. I won't let it control me again. _He strides past James to the elevator. "There's a vehicle down in the hangar," he says. "The one we came in on. Commander Zarra's down there now."

James follows behind him, looking around apprehensively. "I don't like this," he murmurs. "Where did everybody go?"

Kal shakes his head, eying the door to the barracks as he punches the elevator call button. The panel does not light up, and no whirring sounds come from the elevator shaft. It takes Kal only a moment to figure out what has happened. "Damn it!" he swears.

James reaches his shoulder. "What is it?"

"It's quiet up here because everyone's just gone down to the hangar. The must have only just got the call, and now they've locked the elevator!"

"What are we going to do?" asks James. There is no panic or despair in his voice, only a question. Kal realizes that the human has complete faith in him. He locks his jaw, forcing himself to think.

"We can't go down," he says at last. "Even if we could get around the parked elevator, we would have to fight through this whole damn private army. So we can't go down, but we can go _up_."

James gives him a puzzled look. "Up?"

Kal nods. "I'm stronger than I was before. There's this, I don't know, this _thing_ in me now. They put it in, and they thought it would control me. It likes the moonlight, and that's what made me lose control of it last time. Well, it was mostly that."

James narrows his eyes. "Motherfucker," he breathes. "I don't know why I didn't see it then. I guess I was in the middle of everything. We have this myth, Kal, back on earth. They're, fuck..." he turns away for a second, then looks Kal in the eye. "They're trying to recreate the monster from the myth, Kal. These people are insane."

"I know," confirms Kal. "The Director, he was the one in charge. I think the rest of them are just hired mercs. The Director thought he had this grand vision, he wouldn't shut up about it. He wanted to..." Kal pauses, then shakes his head. "You know what, it doesn't matter. What's done is done." He looks down, memories resurfacing, tinged with red. "He's dead, now. It's done."

Kal feels a hand on his shoulder, and when he turns James is looking up at him. "But I'm not, Kal. You came for me. I don't care what else happened. You're here now, and that's good enough for me."

Kal smiles a little, despite the gravity of their situation. "We're getting out of here," he says. "The point is, I think I can control it, like when I broke the chain. I can open the doors and we can climb up the shaft to the top level."

"I'm not going to be much use," says James doubtfully. "I'm having trouble standing upright, I don't know about climbing up any cables."

"No," says Kal. He steps toward the elevator door. "But once we get up there, we'll have access to the main computer system. I'm counting on you to use it to get us out of here." He takes hold of the edge of the door and sets his shoulders.

Kal reaches back in his mind, searching for the burning source of power. The beast answers his call alarmingly quickly. Strength flows into Kal's body and with a mighty jerk he pulls the elevator door across and into its frame. The beast won't let go, though. It wants to be in control. Kal can feel it beneath his skin, the itching deep within his muscles and bones, the urge to shift and change into the body of the beast. He grits his teeth and pushes back, shoving the wild energy back into its cage. He stands there for a moment, shaking slightly as the last traces fade away from his mind.

James lays a hand on his arm, his voice worried. "Are you okay?" he asks. "You don't look good."

Kal nods, willing his muscles to be still. "Yeah. Grab onto my back. We're going up."

The empty elevator shaft yawns black before them. With james clinging to his back, Kal steps onto the ledge and reaches out for the cable. His first swipe misses, unbalancing him and almost toppling them both over the edge.

Kal takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. _Okay. Careful._ He draws on the beast's strength again, grabbing the cables and letting his feet go until he is suspended only by the strength of his arms. He pulls himself up painstakingly slowly, gripping the cluster of cables a foot higher and raising himself hand over hand.

The climb goes very slowly, taking its toll not only on his body but on his mental strength as well as he fights to keep the beast in check. He can feel it gaining on him though, pushing his mental barriers back with every foot he gains. Finally a vertical stripe of dim light heralds the third level door. Kal pulls them up above it and reaches out with his foot, finding a small ledge. It's still not enough to stand on.

"Hold on," he calls back to James. Kal swings back on the cables, driving his legs into the door as hard as he can as they swing back. The door vibrates, but it does not bend. Kal growls in frustration, repeating the motion once, twice, three times. Each time he can feel the beast pushing its way further into him, bolstering his strength at the same time as it eats away at his awareness. The door gives on the fourth try, buckling inward and leaving enough space for James and Kal to squeeze around it.

James stumbles into the room first. Kal follows him, but as soon as his feet touch the floor he sinks to one knee, clutching his head in his hands. Within it the the beast is snapping, straining at its chains. He feels the burning just beneath his skin again, feels the terrible urge to give in and let it take control. _No! _he yells silently. He cannot form any more words, so he repeats it over and over again. _No no no nonononono! _He pushes with all his might, pushes the urge of the beast away and back into the recesses of his mind.

…

James steps into the room, then turns to Kal expectantly. To his surprise, the quarian man is crouched outside the elevator shaft, his head bowed and his body shaking. James opens his mouth, unsure how to voice his concern. Before he can think of anything to say, kal sstands up. A tremor runs through him, and then he seems to shake it off. "Come on," he says, his voice not entirely steady.

"Kal..." begins James hesitantly.

Kal shakes his head. "Not now. Let's get everyone out of here first. I'll be fine."

James frowns, but he complies with Kal's direction, turning to the computer console in the center of the room. He tries not to notice the headless body lying beside the console, activating the computer's interface with his omni-tool. Kal comes up behind him, watching over his shoulder.

The screen flickers to life, displaying a security feed. The display is split into sections. One of the feeds shows the cell block, empty except for the body of the hunter Kal shot. James's eyes flick to the hangar. The camera feed shows a view of the strange vehicle that brought them here. It is surrounded by a platoon of hunters, but from what James can see he figures the quarians are already inside. The humans seem unable to get inside, but they'll find a way eventually. "We've got to open the airlock," he mutters to himself. "I hope they have the sense to wait for us." He moves to an adjacent monitor, activating the screen. The computer's home window flashes to life. The desktop is marked by a set of hexagons, black within orange.

"Do you know who these guys are working for?" asks James. He has a funny feeling he has seen the same insignia before, but he can't place it.

"No," replies Kal. "The Director kept talking about some benefactor or something. I think he got picked up by an organization that liked his kind of crazy."

"Must be pretty shady if they're interested in _this_," comments James.

"Yeah," agrees Kal. "But I'll bet they've already disavowed these psychos. Places like these usually go under without any loose ends."

James taps a command shortcut. On the screen the hangar door begins to lift slowly. "They're clear! Kal, we've got to get down there!"

Kal moves to James's left, peering at the security feed. "Fuck," he hisses. "Look!"

James follows the direction of Kal's pointing finger. On the tiny display, half of the hunters have broken off from the group. They are headed back to the elevator. James looks up at Kal. "What do we do? What _can_ we do? We can't make it down through all them!"

Kal bites his lip, looking at nothing.

"Can you use the tranformation?" asks James. "They wouldn't be a match for you, and if we took them by surprise-"

"No!" says Kal sharply. He takes a deep breath, his voice softening slightly. "No," he repeats. "It's too dangerous. I don't know if I can control myself if I go all the way. I won't risk hurting you."

James tries to think of something. He shifts uncomfortably—something in his boot is jabbing his ankle, has been for a while now. Kal paces to the windows set in the room's walls. James watches him. He hadn't noticed the windows before.

Kal raps a fist against the glass. "It's solid," he says. "Multi-layered. If we could find a way to _break_ it..." He smacks his palm against the window. "Damn it! I left the gun back in the lab."

James frowns. He reaches a hand absently into his boot, digging around for the cause of his discomfort. Suddenly his eyes open wide. "Kal!"

Kal turns his head, eyes questioning.

James slowly draws his hand out of his boot. He opens his fingers, revealing a small silver cylinder, split at its equator by a black band.

Kal strides closer, taking the cylinder from him. "Where did you get this?" he asks, his voice trembling. "If it's what I think it is..."

"It is," says James. "The pirates were going to use it to make a distraction. They dropped it when we were attacked, and I picked it up. I completely forgot about it."

Kal palms the cylinder, looking carefully toward the elevator shaft. "If we time it right," he says slowly, his voice nearly a whisper. "We can get them all as they come out of the elevator, and blow open the window at the same time."

James nods gravely. "It's the only choice we have." He checks the screen again. The vehicle is pulling out of the hangar. The remaining hunters fire their weapons after it, but the shots aren't able to penetrate the craft's armor plating. James is about to turn away when something catches his eye. One of the command shortcuts on the next desktop is in the shape of a red triangle. He stoops closer, reading the label. _Self-destruct._ James opens the shortcut. There is no prompt for a password, only a single button and a timer, frozen at five minutes. "Kal," he says. "There's a self destruct. Timer's set for five minutes."

"Hit it," commands Kal.

James punches the virtual button. Instantly the displays on all the other monitors light up, every one displaying the countdown. The clocks begin to tick silently backward. _Four fifty-nine. Four fifty-eight._

James turns away from the console and joins Kal farther back in the room. They turn to the door, waiting. A _clank _sounds from within the shaft.

"James," says Kal. He doesn't say anything else, and James can feel him trying to find better words.

He slips his hand into Kal's, intertwining his five fingers between the quarian's three. "Yeah," he says, not as a question, but as an answer to what he knows Kal is trying to say. He feels Kal tighten his grip around the human's hand. James smiles. Strangely enough, even though he is almost surely about to die, he feels more complete at this moment than he ever has in all the years since his flight from Earth. He realizes with a sudden aching warmth that there is nowhere in the galaxy he would rather be.

The elevator hums, the car rising to their level. James hears the click as Kal twists the top of the cylinder, activating the grenade's short timer. "Hey," he says quietly. "I love you, Kal. It's been a hell of a week, but I want you to know that I'd do it all again if I got the chance."

"James" says Kal above him, and the James can hear his voice breaking. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me."

The elevator chimes. Kal throws the grenade. He wraps his arms around James and there is a tremendous noise, a wind of burning heat, and then suddenly the wind turns cold and James feels himself being sucked away, cold assaulting him from all sides. He barely has time to take a breath before it hits his face, picking up his body and carrying him away. He strikes out, barely able to see the opening of the window, and then in the whirling current something large and heavy smashes into him and his arms go weak. The frigid blackness presses in on him, and he reaches out one last time, trying to claw his way to a surface he can't see.

…

There is something warm on James's face. He doesn't open his eyes, simply enjoying the heat. Memories swirl around in his mind, recalling cold and darkness, but they can't possibly be right. He feels so warm. He sighs comfortably, then frowns. His chest burns, and his throat feels raw. He opens his eyes. The warmth is sunlight. He is under the sun. James turns his head, looking away from the blinding light, but the sight that greets him only proves more troublesome. A flat expanse of white stretches out to his left, blurring where it meets the azure sky. He rubs his cheek against the strange surface. It is gritty, and tiny particles stick to his skin. _Where am I?_

Someone clears their throat to his right. James turns his head again. The grainy whiteness is on the other side, too. Someone is sitting a few feet away, watching him. James's eyes focus blearily. The man has pale indigo skin and pale, softly glowing eyes. His silver-white hair is plastered down, drying gin the sun. He sits with his arms around his knees, watching James patiently. Behind him a wave rolls gently against the sand. "I was wondering when you'd wake up," he says, smiling softly.

James smiles back, closing his eyes again. _Oh,_ he thinks. _I'm home._


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Kal'Reegar steps out of the shower and into the steam-filled air of the tiny bathroom. A set of white towels hangs on wall-mounted rail and he reaches for one, unconsciously taking a moment to rub the textured cloth between his fingers. When he realizes what he's doing Kal smiles and starts to towel the moisture out of his hair. _I guess I'll get used to this eventually,_ he thinks. _It'll take a while, though._

_._

Zarra had come for them in the end, half landing and half crashing the hunters' transport a hundred yards up the beach. The commander stumbled out, tailed by the few uninjured marines, and ran up the beach to where Kal and James had washed up. Most of what happened after that was a blur to Kal. He remembers James's face clearly through it all though, and he remembers locking eyes with the human as quarian engineers scurried back and forth between them, turning the hunters' strange craft into an antenna for their suit's commlinks just as he and the human did on their first day. He remembers sharing a sort of an unspoken, mutual feeling in the space between them, not of relief—it was too early for relief—but perhaps a sort of a quiet happiness. _Look_, it seemed to say. _We made it through hell and I still have you._

_._

Kal drapes the towel back over the rail and picks up a pair of pants from the floor. He turns the garment over in his hands, frowning absentmindedly. _So flimsy. It doesn't feel quite right. Maybe it never will._ He slips the pants on nonetheless, the rough cloth sending shivers over his skin.

.

The gravity well had gone with the hunters' base, nothing but an orange flicker and a few bubbles to mark its destruction. With it gone, the quarians were able to mobilize an extraction team within the hour. While they waited for the ships to arrive, Zarra had pulled Kal aside. " have a hundred questions for you," he told Kal. "But as far as I'm concerned, they can wait. You pulled all of our asses out of the fire, and if it wasn't for you we wouldn't have been the last ones, either. In my book, that makes you a damned hero, but it might not be good enough for the admiralty board."

"Will there be a hearing?" Kal asked.

"No," replied Zarra. "You didn't do anything wrong, but they'll want to debrief the hell out of you. You come walking in like this and I can tell you you won't want to make any plans for the next year. They'll stick you in some medical facility somewhere and stick you full of so many needles and electrodes you won't be able to see."

"I guess they won't ask nicely."

"Keelah, Reegar! Just the fact that you're not dying of a thousand infections right now is a miracle in itself! Now, I don't know what they did to you in that lab, and frankly I don't want to. The board will, though, and the way they'll find out is by slapping you right back on the examination table."Zarra fell silent for a while, regarding Kal calculatingly. "Look Reegar," he said at last. "You're a good soldier. The fleet doesn't need you in some lab somewhere getting your ass inspected. We need you out here, protecting us from shit like this. I don't know how many more places like this there are, but without people like you we'd be at their mercy, and that's a fact. Fleets of ships and fighters are one thing, but true military strength doesn't have anything to do with that. It's in the people, Kal, and maybe the admiralty would disagree with me on this, but I think locking you away in a medical lab would be a very bad move."

"Yessir," Kal answered.

"Here's the deal then," continued Zarra, his voice dropping slightly. "We'll have a couple of spare suits stowed away in the drop ship, when it gets here. We'll take you in with the wounded, and then you'll do a quick costume-change before we reach the fleet. Seems to me you were with us all along, got captured when we did, and when that crazy turian started smashing things you made a break for it with the rest of us. You won't win any medals, but there won't be too many questions either."

Kal nodded gratefully. "Perfect. Thank you, sir." He turned to go, then paused. "Sir, what about the turian, Darius?"

"He's a strange one," Zarra said thoughtfully. "I honestly don't know what to make of him. He had the power to escape the whole time, but he didn't do it. We couldn't figure out how to get the vehicle's shields up, so he held a barrier around us while we forced our way out."

"Where is he now?" _a_sked Kal.

Zarra shrugged. "Over by the water, I think. He's quiet, though. Hasn't talked to us much, but maybe he will to you."

Kal nodded slowly. "I think I'll go talk to him. And, ah, one more thing?"

"Yes?"

"About the human," Kal said carefully. "He was with the pirate crew, but he helped me escape. He's been with me the whole time, and I know he's on our side."

"Well, you'd have to ask someone who gets paid more than me about that," said Zarra, and Kal was sure he could see the commander smile behind his visor. He felt his ears flushing slightly and almost wished he had his own visor to hide behind. _I think he'll be fine though, _Zarra continued. "As long as he keeps a low profile, I don't think anybody will even notice."

_._

Kal buttons up the top of his shirt, tugging the material around uncomfortably. _Civvies. Quarians don't _have _civvies. _Still, he can't bring himself to put the suit back on until he has to. He's been given a week of furlough, officially to "recuperate." Unofficially, he knows it's so that the admiralty board can decide what to do with him. He's heard rumors about several posts, a mission in the attican traverse, and something about a research team on Haestrom. He doesn't know where it is he'll wind up yet, and at the moment he doesn't care.

.

After his conversation with Zarra, Kal walked across the beach alone for a while. The sun was setting, covering the gently rippling water with molten gold and crimson, and the sand along the water's edge was soft against his bare feet. Eventually he came upon a gray-armored turian seated at the tideline. His eyes were closed, but he looked up as Kal approached. "Kal'Reegar," he said, a simple acknowledgement of the quarian's presence.

Kal sat down beside him, following the turian's gaze out over the water.

"These are my favorite places," Darius said, breaking the silence. "You can feel the convergence of elements: earth, fire, air and water all coming together at this one point. It's energizing."

Kal watched the sea for a while longer. Far away, a gull swooped down low to pluck a fish out of the water. "Are you coming with us?" he asked after some time.

Darius nodded. "Yes, your commander has been kind enough to offer me passage. One can never see enough of a world, but I believe I have seen all I wish to see of this one."

"Where will you go?" asked Kal. "After this. What will you do?"

"I do not know yet. Something will present itself. There are always new opportunities, Kal'Reegar. More places to see, more things to learn."

"What did you learn here?" asked Kal, curious.

Darius is quiet for a moment, and his mandibles twitch in what seems to Kal to be a turian sort of smile. "A few things, perhaps. I think it was you who learned more than me, in the end. What you and James share is something special, something many search for and not all truly find. I hope you realize not only how much he needs you, but how much you need him."

"I—how-I-" Kal shut his mouth. He turned away, looking out at the sea again. The sun had begun sinking below the horizon, the brilliant orange coin already half-way gone. "Yeah," he said, more quietly. "I do."

Darius smiled his strange smile again and leaned back on his elbows. "Good. I'm pleased to have met you, Kal'Reegar." He extended his hand, and Kal shook it firmly. Then he stood and walked slowly back to the shuttle.

.

The steam has mostly cleared from the room, sucked away by the fan in the ceiling. Kal pauses before the small mirror, met for once not by the reflection of an envirosuit nearly identical to every other quarians', but by his own face. He stares at the picture in the glass, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. With reluctance he tears his eyes away, trying to fight the sensation of being terribly exposed. _I'll never get used to this,_ he tells himself again, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

He swings open the bathroom door and steps out into the main room of the apartment.

After the medics had finally quit harassing them and Kal had reported to his superiors, he and James were set free. After some insistence on Kal's part and backing from Commander Zarra, a small sum of credits had been diverted into James's dried up bank account to cover the cost of lodgings while he looked for work.

It's this apartment that Kal is in now, a modestly sized but comfortable suite on the Citadel. Just as he steps out of the bathroom, the front door gives a soft buzz and opens. James enters, waving his omni-tool to close the door behind him. He stops when he sees Kal, his eyebrows raising appreciatively. "That's a good look for you," he says. "I don't know why you bothered with that suit for so long. Actual clothes are clearly more your style."

Kal smiles, feeling his mood rising as it always does in the human's presence. "How did it go?"

James shrugs. "There was a hell of a line at the employment office, but they took my name down. I spent most of the time just walking around, to be honest. I've never been on the Citadel before. Everything is just so... different. It's not really like anywhere else. It's going to take a while to sink in."

"Yeah," agrees Kal. "I can't get over how much space there is. We have gardens on our liveships, but here they have a whole _lake_! It's like you're not even on a spacecraft at all."

James nods, then pulls off his jacket and hangs it by the door. "So how long did they let you go for?" he asks. "A whole week?"

"Yeah," says Kal. "I was just about to finish packing up my things, actually. Thanks again for letting me stay here."

James turns his head, giving Kal a quizzical look. "What, do you have somewhere to be?"

Kal rubs the back of his neck, looking away uncomfortably. "Well, no, but I'll figure something out. Don't worry about it."

James closes the distance between them in a few strides. "Hey," he says, looking up at Kal. "I wouldn't even have this place if it wasn't for you. I don't want you to leave."

"Really?" asks Kal uncertainly. "Are you sure it wouldn't-"

James reaches up, tilting Kal's face toward his. "Do you remember what you said to me before?" he asks, holding the quarian's gaze.

"Yes," replies Kal. _Every word._

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course, I-"

"Well, I mean this now," says James. "I don't want _you_ to go, Kal. I know you have to, but until then I want us to be together. Maybe it's just a week, but I damn well want to make the most of it."

"I'll come back," says Kal, his throat suddenly thick and dry. "After my tour is over, when the mission's done, as soon as I can. I'll be back, James, I will."

James smiles softly, weaving his fingers through Kal's hair. "I know you will," he says. "But that's tomorrow. Let's enjoy today while we have it."

Kal begins to speak, and then James is pulling him in and before he has time to say anything the human draws him into a gentle kiss. Kal 's heart pounds for a moment then he relaxes, feeling the world fade away around them. _I hope I never get used to this,_ he thinks.

.

.

.

.

.

**THE END**

**.**

**.**

**A/N: I began this story with only a vague idea, and over the course of a few months it has turned into something more than I had ever imagined. I'd like to thank everybody who has given me feedback for the story. Your kind words mean the world to me.**

**The Kiss of the Moon was one of those things that just sort of _happened_, but now that it's over I can't quite believe it. It has been such a huge part of my life that it would be unthinkable not to write a sequel.**

**If anybody is following my other stories, then you know that I'm also about to begin work on The Lightning Strike, the sequel to Sparks. What does this mean for Kal and James? Well, it's actually good news. I had been toying with the idea of combining both stories, and now I've found a way to do it. Both Sparks and Kiss of the Moon will have their own separate sequels, but they will also connect at certain points, during which the same event will be seen by the characters in one story as well as the characters in the other. It sounds strange but bare with me. I have a plan.**

**My ultimate goal is to move both stories forward to meet up with the ME3 timeline. Also, my goal as far as updates go is to begin regular updates on the KotM sequel in two or three weeks' time. **

**Keelah se'lai!**


End file.
